


Per Aspera Ad Astra

by Fire_Traveller



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley has some trauma from Falling and from the burning bookshop, Crowley made the stars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Gabriel is a dick, Hastur Wants Revenge, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Heaven and Hell want their revenge, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Ineffable Partners (Good Omens), Ineffable Spouses (Good Omens), Ligur Lives (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta we fall like Crowley, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Queen Songs, Slow Burn, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Some Swearing, Some angst, The Bentley ships them, Wings, eventually - they need some time to get there, some bickering and banter along the way, some other characters get mentioned but it makes little sense to put them in the tags, some sexual content, some violence - they both get their fair share of bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 42
Words: 136,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Traveller/pseuds/Fire_Traveller
Summary: After the Almost-Apocalypse, both Crowley and Aziraphale tentatively enjoy their new freedom - but it turns out that they are quite right in not trusting the new situation: All too soon, it seems that Heaven and Hell are after them again, out for revenge on their two 'former employees'. Apart from all that, it seems that Crowley also has some secrets of his past that he never told Aziraphale about, stuff they should definitiely address eventually...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 222
Kudos: 217





	1. A Day at the Museum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the world didn't end, Crowley and Aziraphale slowly begin to enjoy the freedom that seems to have been given to them. One day, they go to visit the museum, but when they return to the bookshop, there's a rather unwelcome surprise waiting there for them...

The day had started out rather perfectly. It had been some time since ‘Armageddidn’t’, as Aziraphale sometimes called it jokingly, and things had remained quite the same as they had been before…or, well, almost the same. It felt good to finally be free of Heaven and Hell breathing down both their necks, but Aziraphale didn’t really trust this new-found freedom yet and he was fairly certain that Crowley felt pretty much the same way. Still, things had remained quiet for both of them. Well, maybe the trick they’d pulled off with that body-swap was truly enough to keep both sides fooled for a long while. _Here’s to hoping_ , the angel thought, whenever his mind returned to that question. For now, they would have to live with this peculiar mixture of wary uncertainty and relief. Aziraphale thoroughly enjoyed not having to answer to Gabriel any longer and not having to expect someone from Heaven to pop in at his bookshop any minute to bother him about some thing or another.

Instead, he and Crowley had been seeing each other regularly now and way more out in the open, without clandestine meetings and careful glances over their shoulders. There had been quite a number of lunches and dinners together, long hours spent in the bookshop – usually with a few bottles of good wine – and walks in the park, feeding the ducks there, of course.

A few days ago, they’d found out about a new exhibition at the museum – something like _‘Religious Imagery Throughout History’_. Since this was something that interested them both and that they could both relate to on a very personal level, the decision to go see human interpretations of it all had been made in an instant. It promised to be entertaining, at the very least.

So, as a result, both angel and demon were now strolling through the museum, stopping here and there in front of paintings, sculptures or other pieces of art, sometimes quietly commenting on what they were looking at, sometimes snickering (this was mostly Crowley) or with an amused smile (that was usually Aziraphale), sometimes shaking their heads in confusion or irritation, sometimes rolling their eyes, but sometimes also quite a bit impressed.

In fact, at the moment Aziraphale found himself very impressed indeed, as he stood in front of a life-sized portrait of Mary. “It’s really rather marvellous, this one, don’t you think, my dear?” When there was no reply, the angel finally tore his eyes away from the painting and looked over to his side. The demon he’d expected to see standing beside him wasn’t there. For a moment, a cold feeling of dread began to rise within him. Frowning, Aziraphale looked around, craning his neck and trying to reach out and sense the familiar demonic aura, and then he took a peek into the next room. A wave of relief washed over him when he saw the dark, lanky figure of his friend standing there in front of another painting.

A short look at the little sign at the entrance told the angel that this room was all about…well, angels. Aziraphale cocked his head and smiled with curiosity as to what humans over time might have come up with. He walked straight up to stand beside Crowley and look at the painting the demon was looking at. “They never really get it right, do they”, Crowley said without looking at Aziraphale, apparently more talking to himself than to the angel. Still, Aziraphale felt compelled to react: “Get what right, exactly?” It was only now that Crowley turned to look at him, and for the blink of a moment he seemed strangely caught and hesitant. He searched for words, finally just settling on “Ngk…” and slightly shook his head.

Aziraphale turned to inspect the painting again. An angel, for sure. Apparently, an archangel. A short gaze to a sign on the wall told him that all the paintings on this wall were indeed paintings of the archangels. With a slight frown, Aziraphale looked back at the painting, trying to find out which one this was supposed to be. But before he even got to read the sign with the title and description of the actual painting, Crowley interrupted his thoughts, finally answering his question while gesturing to the other paintings, the paintings the angel hadn’t even taken a look at yet. “Well, pretty much everything, Angel…I mean, look at these. Would you recognise Gabriel over there? Or…or even worse, Michael? She doesn’t look like that blonde dude over there at all. Not even close.” Aziraphale followed the demon’s gestures and couldn’t help but agree. He definitely wouldn’t have recognised the faces. “Well…yes, of course, you’re right, but…you cannot really blame them for that now, can you? I mean…how should they know? And…and well…”, Aziraphale looked a bit closer at the other paintings, “at least the…accessories and attributes and all that are more or less correct. Michael undoubtedly _is_ God’s warrior and leader of…” He trailed of, vaguely gesturing to the sword and spear the depiction of Michael was holding. Crowley just made a noncommittal grunt.

“But who is this supposed to be?”, Aziraphale wondered, turning his attention back to the painting in front of them. He noticed the staff with the snake around it and realisation dawned on him. “Oh! Of course! I know – this must be Raphael! Hmm…you know, that’s funny, actually…It seems he’s still very present in people’s minds, but in Heaven nobody has heard any-” He had turned back to face Crowley again, only to find the demon gone once more. Aziraphale sighed, slightly exasperated by his companion’s strangely erratic behaviour, but this time, at least he found him instantly: Crowley was sauntering off towards a little statue in the passageway to the next exhibition room. Aziraphale sighed once again and took a last look at the human interpretations of the archangels. Gabriel sort of had the same smug smile, but, in a way, he looked a lot less…intimidating than the Gabriel Aziraphale remembered. The angel shrugged and followed Crowley.

The little statue was that of a demon…or rather of what humans imagined a demon to look like: A creature with bat’s wings, horns, hooves and a tail. Aziraphale looked from the sculpture to the actual demon standing right next to him and noticed a broad grin on Crowley’s face. “D’you know, Angel, I don’t know of a single demon down in Hell who looks like _this._ ” He chuckled before he continued: “What d’ya think, what would I look like with horns and such a funny dragon’s tale? And…the wings? I mean, really? What about some shiny, well-groomed feathers, for He-…for Someone’s sake? This looks like some overgrown bat!” Crowley seemed highly amused and his chuckle was rather infectious. Aziraphale couldn’t help giggling himself at the thought of Crowley sporting _this_ look. It seemed indeed quite ridiculous. “Well, just imagine me walking around with a halo all the time…and…with a harp…”, Aziraphale ventured. “Oh, the harp? Yeah, right, Angel, just let me go grab my pitchfork.” Both angel and demon burst into another fit of giggles, their ongoing snickering earning them a rather pointed, stern look by a member of the museum’s staff.

“Alright, let’s go on, Angel”, Crowley finally suggested and they went to look at the rest of this – to them – rather entertaining exhibition. Crowley was particularly amused by one of Hieronymus Bosch’s paintings, while Aziraphale was rather astonished at the amount of depictions of God – and almost all of them as an old man. How unimaginative…and bold, at the same time. It was enough to keep them talking on the whole way back, as they strolled along the streets for a lengthy evening walk. They were still talking animatedly about it all when they finally reached the bookshop.

It was a surprisingly quiet evening – for once, there were hardly any people on the streets around the bookshop. It should have struck both angel and demon as odd, but they were too caught up in their chatter with each other to pay much attention to their surroundings. After all, it had been quite a perfect day so far. The only thing still missing was the continuation of this amicable conversation in the back of the bookshop with a few good drinks until late in the night. Aziraphale busied himself with pulling out the key and unlocking the door, which earned him a good-humoured eyeroll from Crowley – the demon didn’t understand why the angel wouldn’t just miracle the door open. Aziraphale just smiled: “Well…after you, my dear…” With a chuckle and an amused shaking of his head, Crowley stepped inside, closely followed by the angel.

The bookshop was dark – not surprising, since dusk had come while they were still on their way back. But…something seemed…strange. Crowley stood still, frowning. “Angel…”, he began, glancing at Aziraphale, who’d stopped right beside him, looking back at him with the same frown. “Something is…”, the angel began, but as realisation dawned on him, he stopped himself, his eyes growing wide. “Shit!” This came from Crowley, coming to the same conclusion as Aziraphale in the exact same moment. They’d walked straight into a trap. They’d thought they were safe and they’d grown careless.

What both had sensed the moment they had entered the bookshop was a hardly concealed angelic presence…or rather, several of them, and none of them were the one ever-present one of Aziraphale himself. With panic gripping him, Aziraphale reached out to Crowley, meaning to tell him to get the Hell out of here and get to safety, but the angel never got to say any of that. He saw movements here and there behind the bookshelves, brightly dressed ones – angels. They stepped out of the shadows, all of them armed. Aziraphale reacted on instinct, placing himself half between Crowley and the angels he could make out in the shop. He was scared, but…these were angels, and so was he. They could discorporate him, but they were less likely to permanently kill him just like that. They could, however, smite or even completely obliterate a demon. If they were in his bookshop, they very likely wanted him, and weren’t after Crowley, so if there was any chance that he could keep his friend out of this, he’d be damned if he didn’t take it.

“Traitors…”, one of the angels began to speak, sounding very official and almost bored. Aziraphale huffed. So they _were_ after both of them after all? Beneath the panic and shock, angry consternation bubbled up. An emotion he wasn’t all that familiar with. “Traitors? I’m not working for Heaven any longer, so you cannot classify me as a traitor. I have nothing more to do with you!” The angel right in front of him quirked an eyebrow and looked Aziraphale up and down with disdain. “That’s an interesting way of interpreting your situation. You are under arrest. Both of you.” With that, he raised his sword, not to strike but to make a point.

Aziraphale’s emotions were in turmoil: “A-arrest? Wh-…You…you cannot just come in here and…What…what are you doing in _my_ shop? Wait…B-both of…? H- how dare you? Who sent you? Why…?” He took a step forward. “Get out! Just leave us alone! You have no authority to -”, but he didn’t get any further than that. Something hit the back of his head, hard. Well…that felt somewhat familiar. Though, the last time this had happened to him, he’d been masquerading as Crowley and the ones knocking him over the head had been demons. The last thing he saw was the face of that angel who had just announced their arrest, then he saw stars…and then everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...I've had this on my mind for quite a while and have a rough overall plan, but I have no idea how many chapters it's gonna have or how regularly I'll be able to update (which will depend largely on my time schedule). But we'll get there eventually. There are a few short ideas that I may put into this story or eventually put up as one-shots - not sure about that yet. I'll see whatever works best...So, to whoever finds this, I hope you'll like it...As for the 'other'-tagging in relationships, well, as Neil put it, these two mostly present as males, but per definition, angels and demons aren't bound to that, so there we go...Also, I won't vouchsafe for religious accuracy - the Bible's not necessarily my strong field, folks...


	2. Trapped in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being arrested by heavenly forces, Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves locked up in Heaven. They need to find a way to escape, but how can you possibly break out of a heavenly prison cell?

The first thing Aziraphale noticed was a dull throbbing in his head. As he tried to open his eyes, though, the sudden brightness hit him like an axe splitting his skull. He winced, closed his eyes again with a weak groan and slowly raised his hands to his head – at first, just to hold it, as if he was afraid it might fall apart. Very slowly and carefully, he tried to open his eyes once more. This time it worked better and the light didn’t seem so painfully bright any more. He blinked a few times, confused. He was…in a prison cell. What had happened? He had no clear memory at first, but he was pretty sure that someone or something must have hit him on the head. The headache was enough proof for that.

As he carefully examined his head, he felt a bump on the back of it that he really couldn’t touch without wincing. His curly hair was crusted with something there, too. His best guess was that it must be his own blood. Yes, he had most definitely been hit on the head and knocked out. He began to feel somewhat sick. And he suspected that he must at least have a concussion. Well, that could be helped at least. Aziraphale knew, of course, that you weren’t supposed to try and heal yourself, but what choice did he have? He concentrated and, to his relief, it worked. A little healing miracle that left him somewhat dizzy, but at any rate with a clear and no longer agonisingly hurting head.

With his head clear, the angel looked around. This was most definitely a prison cell…and it seemed…heavenly. It was then that all that had happened came back to him. How they’d returned to the bookshop from their trip to that exhibition and how a couple of angels had ambushed them and…Crowley! Where was Crowley? Aziraphale looked around, fear and worry rising up in him. _Stop panicking! You won’t be any good if you’re panicking_ , he told himself, but to no avail. Maybe they had just taken him and let Crowley go? But no, they had clearly included the demon in their statement of ‘traitors’ and ‘arrest’. But Aziraphale was alone in this cell. Had they…? No…they wouldn’t…But…what if they had…? Aziraphale was beginning to feel sick again, and this time it wasn’t because of a concussion. Or…had Crowley been able to escape? Highly improbable… “Oh Lord, no…”, he muttered.

That was when he heard a shuffling from…somewhere outside, to the left. “Angel? Aziraphale, are you awake?” Aziraphale let out a loud sigh of relief. “Crowley? Oh, thank God…You…you’re alright?” He was up and standing to peek out between the bars of the door. The cell door looked out into a whitewashed room, with a main door in the wall to the right and what doubtlessly must be more cells to the left. And if he really pressed his face against the bars, he could see Crowley looking back at him in very much the same fashion out of the cell right next to him to the left. They seemed to be the only prisoners in here, the other cells seemed to be empty. At any rate, they couldn’t hear anyone else.

The demon didn’t have his normally omnipresent sunglasses, so it was easy for the angel to read the worry in those yellow serpentine eyes. “’m fine, how are _you_ , Angel? You’ve been out for…quite a bit…” “I’m okay, my dear, don’t worry. I guess I had a concussion, but it’s fine now…Gave me quite the headache…What…what happened? We’re…under arrest in Heaven?” “Yeah…when they knocked you out like that, you being an angel, I thought it would be rather unwise for me to struggle, so…” Trailing off, Crowley just shrugged. The angel nodded. If they’d had no qualms about treating a fellow angel like this, he, too, didn’t want to imagine what they might do to a demon who tried to resist them.

“Do you know where we are? Did you see…?” But he could already see Crowley shake his head. “Sorry, Angel, they made sure I wouldn’t see anything…and …well, I haven’t been in Heaven for millennia…unless ya wanna count that short trip masquerading as you…And…they didn’t really give me a guided tour then…” Aziraphale sighed. He himself also wasn’t familiar with all corners of Heaven – the prison section certainly hadn’t been on his go-to-list. “Did they say anything? I mean, about…who sent them after us and…why exactly…?” Now it was Crowley’s turn to sigh. “Nope”, he replied, “but no matter who sent them or what they may have on us -” The main door to their right opening caused Crowley to immediately stop talking.

Through the door came another angel, a guard, quite obviously, with a whole ring of keys and some sort of a club tied to his belt. He didn’t close the door behind him, letting it merely swing back slowly so that it was left ajar. “Oh? Our little traitorous renegade is awake, I see…” The guard flashed Aziraphale a false smile. Just the kind of smile he’d seen more than enough of from Gabriel. Aziraphale felt tempted, for a moment, to try and defend himself, but he quickly realised that whatever he said would most certainly be used against him, against Crowley, or against the both of them. So, instead, he tried to pry for information: “Why are we here, exactly? We’ve both been tried already. And…you cannot be tried twice for the same thing, surely. On whose orders were we brought here, anyway?”

The guard smiled icily. “Questions…questions, questions…Better be careful, questions can be dangerous. You’ll learn soon enough.” He gave Crowley a quick, pointed look and then looked back at Aziraphale, while he spoke. “Anyway, I’m not here for idle chat, just to check on you two”, he added with another smirk, before he turned on his heel and left, the door falling shut behind him. Crowley had turned rather pale at the guard angel’s remark. He stared after the guard and then kept staring at the closed door for a moment, frowning and feeling somewhat sick after that comment. _Questions, indeed_. Aziraphale, too, seemed to sense that there was something else going on there, but he didn’t ask.

Finally, Crowley slightly shook his head. “We have to get outta here. And fast.” Aziraphale nodded. “Well, I agree, obviously, my dear boy, but _how?_ Any ideas? To unlock these doors, we need the keys…and I guess we’ve both just seen where they are. I doubt he’ll give them to us, so asking him nicely won’t do.” Crowley remained silent. “Even if we do escape, they’ll come after us again…” Aziraphale sighed miserably. “I thought…I hoped…we’d be free…at least…for a bit longer than this…” He sounded as if he was about to start crying. If there was one thing Crowley really couldn’t deal with now, it was the thought of Aziraphale giving into despair and starting to break down and cry in the cell next door. So, before this could happen, he tried to encourage the angel: “We can still sort this out later…We’ll…find a way, we always do…The main thing is that we get out of here first. Right? So…how do we do this?”

Aziraphale looked back at him and then, with a slight huff, he smiled at Crowley. It would never cease to amaze him: This was a _demon_ , after all, and while, usually, his snarky sarcasm might hide the fact pretty well, this demon was, underneath it all, an optimist. Right now, Aziraphale felt more than grateful for it and the irony of an optimistic demon and a despairing angel wasn’t lost on him. But it helped, at least. He began to think. “Well…we need to get those keys…There is no way either of us can unlock these doors, they are miracle-proof…We _need_ the keys…But _how?_ How can we possibly get through these bars?”

He reached a hand through them, pondering, and that was when Crowley got an idea. In fact, the demon slapped his own face, eyes growing wide. “Aziraphale! I’m an idiot! Of course I can get through these bars! Just…not like this…But hey, I’m a serpent, am I not?” Aziraphale opened his mouth and for a moment stared at Crowley with the perfect impression of a goldfish. Of course! A snake would most certainly fit through the bars.

But then he realised that, contrary to his own door which was practically the classic ‘bars only’-prison door, the door Crowley was peeking out of was solid, except for a set of bars pretty high up – high enough that the demon could only poke his nose out through them. And the surface of the door looked very smooth. This was probably the reason why they had put him in that specific cell in the first place. Crowley was a large snake, but still. “Crowley, my dear…are you sure? Do you think you can…reach up to the bars as a snake?” Crowley gave him a pointed look. “Well, I might want to kick myself for being so slow-brained today, but yes, I’ll manage. I have to, because, frankly, I don’t see any other way of us getting out of this. So…watch me!” With that, he began to transform.

He had inspected his cell door before, of course, while Aziraphale was still unconscious, so he knew that, in spite of his bravado just now, it would be anything but easy. His initial plan was to simply grab the bars with both hands and hope that this would give him the chance to stick his snake head through them before he would inevitably sink to the floor. It didn’t work. Before he had any chance to try and squeeze through the bars, his hands were gone. When he found himself on the ground, he hissed, somewhat frustrated.

He looked up. The bars of the door, where the light shone through, were high above him. He raised himself up and found that, unless he immediately changed his shape again, he wouldn’t be able to reach high enough to get his head anywhere near those bars. _Oh, blessed Heaven_ , he grumbled in his mind. Well, there was nothing for it – he’d have to try and slither up the door. His first attempt didn’t go far – the surface of the door was completely smooth and Crowley didn’t get any grip on it, it was just like glass. Worse, in fact. He got up to a certain height and then fell down rather unceremoniously. Hissing, he tried again, again failing. Really, this couldn’t be so hard, could it? It _had_ to be possible. He tried again, a bit too hasty this time, and didn’t even get as far up as the first time. Again, he slumped to the floor, grumbling and blessing angrily in his mind.

All Aziraphale could hear was very angry, frustrated hissing. “Crowley…?”, he asked, but didn’t get a reply. In the cell next door, the serpent was coiled up on the floor, beginning to feel a bit cold, because that floor was anything but warm. Crowley was quite certain that this was on purpose, too. He looked around, analysing the situation once more. Well, he _could_ try using the corner between door and wall to his advantage. Maybe that would work better. Yes, that was it! He began ascending there and to his relief, the wall provided some way better grip than the door. That corner did help.

He reached the height of the bars…and faced the next problem: While the door pretty much went from wall to wall, the bars did not. They merely built up something akin to a window in the centre of the door. His head was on the same height level as the bars, but he noticed that said bars were now quite some distance to his right. _Oh crap_ , he thought. He’d have to try and stretch out to the side until he could poke his head through the bars…and he had no idea how much time they had left. He’d have to hurry. He had almost reached the bars – in fact, he was close enough to touch them with the tip of his snout – when gravity hit and he fell down once again, landing in a pile on the floor. Had he been in his human shape, he’d have screamed in frustration.

This was beginning to take its toll on him, body and mind. For a moment, he didn’t move, collecting himself. Then he started his ascent again. After all, the plan to use the corner had worked – he’d just have to be more careful when trying to get over to the bars. This time, he told himself that he had all the time in the world, no hurries, he’d get there. Slowly, but eventually. And it did work! He reached the bars and slid his head right through them with a triumphant hiss. A bit of his neck followed – yes, that was it! And then he felt the pull of the weight of his own body dragging him down once again. Falling, he banged the side of his head against one of the bars, and when he landed, once again in a heap of coils, on the cold floor, he remained motionless for a while. That had actually hurt. And by now he felt rather exhausted. The cold floor wasn’t helping either.

Aziraphale had kept quiet, waiting and not wanting to disturb Crowley, once he’d noticed that things didn’t seem to be quite as easy as Crowley had made them appear. When he finally saw the head and neck of the snake slither through the bars, he was already starting to smile brightly – until he saw the snake falling back down with a startled hiss. He heard the slump on the other side of the cell door and then…nothing. “Crowley…? Are…are you okay?” A moment later, he heard a hissed reply.

Crowley took a moment to collect himself once more. He took a few deep breaths, internally steeling himself. This time it would work. It had to. He’d almost made it, almost. Once again, he started his ascent. As he reached the right level of height, he took a short break, collecting his strength. Then, as slowly, carefully and securely as he could, he began to move to the right, towards the bars. Once he reached them, he didn’t dare indulge in any feeling of triumph, but continued to slide his head through the bars, then some more of his neck, and then, before he could be pulled back down again by his own weight, he began to wrap himself around the bar. One coil, then another, trying to use his own skin rather than the slippery bar for grip. It worked, but the process was slow and very, very exhausting, especially when he had to start to work against gravity and his own weight. But he wasn’t intending on giving up now, on the contrary. He’d do this, he’d be damned…well, damned again, if he didn’t.

Aziraphale was still standing at his own door, face pressed against the bars, hoping desperately that this would work, that Crowley would make it. When he saw the snake’s head poking out between the bars again and then more and more coils of sleek black snake wrapping around one of the bars, he almost cheered. But he caught himself and kept quiet – it was obvious to him, too, that Crowley was working very hard right now and any distraction might be very counterproductive. So, the angel cheered him on mentally instead.

When he felt that, concerning the weight, he’d have enough leverage, Crowley began to slide down on the other side of the door, the side of freedom. He continued to slither downwards, pulling the rest of his body up on the cell side of the door, around the bars and down the other side of the door, rather letting it glide down instead of actually slithering, due to the smooth surface.

By now, Crowley was certain that he could feel every single muscle he had. His whole body was aching. He didn’t dare to let go, though, afraid that it might still pull him back into the cell. That would definitely be rather painful, but he was also fairly certain that he simply wouldn’t have the strength to attempt this again any time soon. It _had_ to work out this time or they’d have to wait. And waiting was something they couldn’t afford. Eventually, gravity shifted and began to pull on the other side, the side in front of the door. When the force of gravity became stronger than the strength he had left, he couldn’t help but let go, completely exhausted. He fell to the ground with a slump and winced.

Aziraphale, watching the whole thing, winced too. He was fairly certain that that wasn’t a comfortable way of landing on the floor, not even for a demon in the shape of a serpent. For a moment, Crowley stayed where he was, motionless, and Aziraphale was beginning to worry. But then, to the angel’s relief, the shape on the ground outside of the cells began to change, and a moment later, Crowley sat sprawled on the floor, pale-faced, staring, breathing rather hard and visibly exhausted. But he had succeeded – he had escaped his cell. “You did it”, Aziraphale beamed. Crowley looked up at him and gave him a lopsided grin. “Told you I would”, he just replied offhandedly, scrambling to his feet a moment later. “Right…See ya then, Angel” With another grin and a wave of his hand, Crowley turned towards the main door, opened it carefully and slipped outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the next chapter! I'm trying to make this a weekly update (and for now, I am ahead of schedule by a few chapters, at least), but I cannot promise that I can always stick to this. BUT I definitely have the main story at least planned and will most definitely finish it eventually.  
> Well, anyway, here you go! Sometimes, being able to shapeshift can be rather useful...Now, the next question is if they'll actually escape or if Crowley runs into trouble...


	3. The Great Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Crowley has managed to escape his cell up in Heaven, but Aziraphale is still locked up. Now it's the demon's job to try and find a way to free his angel...and then, they both still need to escape from Heaven somehow...

Aziraphale kept staring at the door for quite some time. He had no idea where Crowley would go to out there, what would wait for him beyond the door, if he’d find the guard or the keys…or if he’d run into trouble. The longer the time dragged on, the more worried the angel became. There’d been a time when he’d have believed that Crowley, being a demon, might possibly betray and leave him here, and there was still this tiny, rather mean voice that was telling him exactly this. Eerily enough, that voice sounded quite a bit like Gabriel.

Nowadays, however, after they’d worked together for such a long time, been friends for millennia, saved each other so many times, averted the Apocalypse together, it was easy for Aziraphale to get this mean little voice to shut up. He knew better, he knew _Crowley_ better than to believe any of this. That didn’t mean, however, that he had no reason to worry. Crowley was a demon, and in Heaven, this might prove a problem. If any angel found him, he was done for, they’d smite him and send him straight back to Hell. Or even utterly destroy him. Aziraphale knew Crowley would be careful – at least he hoped so – but things could still go wrong. What _if_ Crowley found that guard but was apprehended by him? Or by another angel? Aziraphale was still locked in his cell – if anything went wrong now, he had no chance to help Crowley. The demon was entirely on his own. All Aziraphale could do was wait…and hope. “Be careful…please…”, he muttered, knowing that the long-gone demon couldn’t hear his plea anyway.

As soon as Crowley had slipped through the door, he looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Beyond the door, he now found himself in some sort of hallway, all, of course, in Heaven’s white, ethereal and unblemished style. _Great. That will make it really easy for me to blend in – I stick out like a sore thumb here. Wonderful_ , he thought. Well, there was nothing to be done about that now, he just had to try and stick to the corners and hope that he wouldn’t run into anybody.

He looked left and right – to the left, the hallway was considerably longer than to the right. There were several other doors leading away from the hallway, most of them on the same side as the one he’d just exited, so he began to carefully sneak along the wall, checking the first door. Locked. He continued down the hallway, until he came to the next door, and he was about to try to open it, when another door some way down the hallway opened. Luckily for him, the door he’d just been meaning to inspect apparently opened inwards and the door frame was rather deep. Crowley tried his best to squeeze himself against the door and to shield his own demonic aura as much as possible, hoping that this would keep him hidden. He heard footsteps, walking in the opposite direction, and then another door fell shut. The demon let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, peeked around the corner, and then carried on.

The next door he tried actually did open, but it led to some sort of storage room. The door after that was locked again, another led to an empty office. Another dead end. He had more luck with the last door, on the opposite side of the hallway, which opened into yet another hallway, a larger one. _Promising, this. Looks like a way out if ever I saw one_ , he thought to himself, making a point of remembering this door. They’d need it soon enough.

He had pretty much reached the end of the hallway he was in, so he turned to explore the other direction to continue his exploration there. He needed to find the guard with the keys, after all, and he was fairly certain, judging by the sound of the steps, that whoever he’d just hidden from hadn’t been that guard. He didn’t look back into the room where Aziraphale was still trapped in his cell – there was no time for this now and he didn’t want to come back empty-handed, either.

There were only a few doors on the other side to be checked. One of them wasn’t actually closed, just left slightly ajar. Carefully, he crept closer and peeked in. There he was! The guard angel! Sitting at a table, with some scroll in his hand, reading, occasionally writing something down onto another sheet of paper, now and again checking something on his heavenly equivalent of a mobile phone. So, this seemed to be his office. And he seemed to have a strange penchant for leaving doors ajar. Crowley watched for a while, not sure what to do. He couldn’t just barge in and attack – that was, unless he wanted to get himself killed. But how would he get his hands on those keys? The only chance would be to surprise the guard in some way and act so swiftly that he wouldn’t have a lot of chances to fight back or sound the alarm and call for help.

As Crowley stood there, contemplating, the guard looked up. The demon slipped away from the gap of the open door as quickly as he could, fairly certain that the guard hadn’t actually been able to see him. But he heard the angel getting up, so, even if he hadn’t actually seen Crowley, he had sensed _something_. _Shit! Shitshitshit_ , the demon thought as he hurried back down the hallway. He was just fast enough to manage to slip through the door leading to Aziraphale’s and his cells before the guard angel was through the door of his office and out on the hallway. For a moment, the guard stood in the middle of the hallway in front of his office, looking around with a mixture of perplexity and wariness. Something was wrong here, he just couldn’t pinpoint it down. But his gut told him to remain alert and suspicious.

When the door opened again, Aziraphale looked up with hope as well as fear. As soon as he saw that it was Crowley, he sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God, it’s yo-” “No time now!”, Crowley interrupted him, “Listen, Angel, Pretty sure the guard’s on his way. Soon as he comes in, I’ll jump him, try to push him to your cell. _You_ get the keys off him.” Hardly waiting for the angel to nod, Crowley positioned himself right next to the door, flat against the wall, so the door would hide him from sight if anyone opened it.

Not a moment later, the door was opened again and the guard strode in, once more not bothering to close the door behind him. “Just checking in on you two traitors again”, he started, looking at Aziraphale staring back at him. _Good, so all is fine here_ , he thought. But then he cocked his head, looking at the other cell door. True, since that door only had a window of bars at the top, it was fairly likely that that serpent was somewhere down there in that cell, sitting on the floor where he belonged, out of sight. But better safe than sorry, right? And it would certainly be nice to see the look on the face of a demon locked up in Heaven.

He walked over to the cell door and Aziraphale had a perfect view of Crowley emerging behind the door, gently moving the door and closing it noiselessly before he turned, wings out, nails growing into sharp, dark claws, fangs bared, to stalk after the guard angel like a looming black shadow. In this moment, so full of ruthless, desperate determination, he reminded Aziraphale of a dangerous predator, ready to pounce and strike a fatal blow. The guard hadn’t even reached the cell to peek through the bars when Crowley attacked from behind and literally jumped at him, black wings beating furiously to gain more forward momentum. Both guard and demon fell forward against the cell door, but the guard angel obviously hadn’t been appointed guard for nothing. He had his wings out in reflex and whirled around, trying to grab his attacker somehow. Crowley clung to him, scratching, biting, kicking and jabbing at the angel’s face with his wings, but he didn’t manage to steer him closer to Aziraphale.

Instead, the two of them more or less tumbled rather to the other side of the room, opposite Aziraphale’s cell. The guard angel seemed to notice their position in the room sooner than Crowley, who was too occupied with not letting go. Since the angel had no possibility to get the demon off his back by any other means, he slammed himself backwards against the wall. This, finally, did force Crowley to let go. It knocked the air right out of him and even though he technically didn’t have to breathe, getting crushed like this between a wall and a rather heavy angel stunned him for a moment. Gasping, the demon slid to the ground and the guard turned around in furious triumph. “You”, he began, taking a step towards Crowley, who now glared at him.

The guard didn’t get any further, though – Crowley stretched out both hands in a pushing motion and even though he hadn’t actually touched the guard, the angel stumbled backwards, stunned by a force of energy. Aziraphale felt it too, surprised. He had never seen Crowley do something like this before – these were apparently some unknown power reserves of his that Aziraphale didn’t know about. What he did know was that Crowley was angry. Very angry. Getting pushed full force into a wall by this insufferable guard was definitely a very good excuse for anyone to lose it a bit. And Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to know that right now he was fuming.

The demon got up and, wasting no time, attacked again, while the guard still tried to recover from the blow he’d just suffered. This time, even though Crowley definitely didn’t bring a lot of physical weight to this fight, his attack actually did have the intended result of the guard angel ending up backwards against Aziraphale’s cell door. Crowley’s attack was aided by two factors – one was the fact that the guard was still stumbling slightly backwards, another was that a pair of wings can easily propel you forward and create a lot of force. And Crowley was using his to his full advantage.

“The keysss, Angel!” Aziraphale didn’t need that invitation, he was already grabbing at the guard through the bars, trying to pull off the key ring from his belt. In this moment the guard, too, realised what this was about and tried to not only fight Crowley off but also hit Aziraphale behind him with his elbow. He missed, but Aziraphale, frustrated because he couldn’t get the keys off and angered because the guard was trying to purposefully hurt both of them, switched from trying to grasp the key ring to punching the guard, aiming at all the spots he knew of that would hurt. The guard grunted, hurling insults at both of them that were rather surprising, coming from an angel, and then he took a deep breath to scream and call for help.

Crowley’s eyes widened when he realised what the guard was about to do – if he managed to sound an alarm and get other angels to come here, they were screwed. Before the guard could make any substantial sound, a black wing slapped him in the face, hard, and two hands wrapped around his throat with an iron grip, strangling any sound. “Oh no, you won’t”, Crowley growled at him. The guard tried to punch the demon, but found that at least one of his arms was being twisted from behind.

The three of them were in a deadlock situation. If angels actually needed to breathe, Crowley would certainly have choked the guard unconscious, but as it was, all he did was stop him from screaming. Aziraphale realised that this couldn’t continue – eventually, one of them would get tired or someone would come in. He had to do something. Crowley was fully occupied right now, so it was down to him. Somehow, they needed to overpower this obnoxious guard angel. Aziraphale stared at their adversary. There wasn’t just the key ring on the guard’s belt, he noticed. He’d been so focused on it that he’d forgotten about the club. Since the guard was still rather busy trying to fight Crowley off, Aziraphale took his chance and pulled out the club instead of keeping on trying to pry the key ring loose.

Crowley honestly wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to continue this. Physically, that bloody angel was stronger than him. It was only because he’d been lucky and because he’d managed to stun the guard angel rather well…and now, Aziraphale was helping as well as he could, but eventually, the demon felt he’d be forced to give in. But then, suddenly, he saw something move, heard a thump and the guard angel went slack, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut. For a short moment, Crowley stared at his now unconscious adversary in confusion, then he looked up and right at Aziraphale staring down at the guard angel, the guard’s own club in his hands. He had aimed well, apparently, and brought the thing down full force on the guard’s head, guiding the club right between the bars of his cell.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, who was still staring at him. “Wow…didn’t expect that from you, Angel…” “Well, I…got a bit frustrated, I’m afraid…This was taking too long…Can you…can you get the keys off him? I couldn’t get them…” Crowley smirked – he had the keys off the guard in no time and quickly got Aziraphale out of his cell. Now that the rush of the fight had worn off a bit, the angel’s hands, still holding the club, were starting to shake. “We need to get out of here…right now…”, he muttered. Crowley nodded, but quickly glanced over at the guard who groaned slightly, about to wake up. “Just one more thing, to give us a head start…Lend me a hand?”

Aziraphale looked at the demon questioningly, but followed. He realised soon enough what his friend was talking about – they had to make sure that the guard wouldn’t be able to immediately send someone after them. So, they dragged him into Aziraphale’s cell, Aziraphale took the guard’s belt off and used it to tie his’s arms to his sides, while Crowley ripped off a strip of the guard’s shirt to gag him with. The guard angel, tied and gagged, was just waking up properly when Aziraphale locked the cell door on him. He stared at the two of them furiously, but Crowley merely gave him a grin and Aziraphale a little wave.

“There’s a door to another hallway down there, that way”, Crowley said, nodding to the left when they opened the door to the hallway outside their prison, “No idea where exactly we are, but I guess that’s our best shot” Aziraphale just nodded, eyeing the hallway warily. They looked around for a moment, but there seemed to be nobody there, so they closed the door behind them and began hurrying down the hallway…when another door opened – the very door they’d wanted to try to escape through.

Both slid to a halt. Aziraphale heard a slight hiss from Crowley beside him, but before he could even start to panic, the demon grabbed his arm and dragged him through another door. It was a miracle that the group of angels coming through the door at the end of the hallway hadn’t noticed them, but for once they were lucky – nobody came for them. Aziraphale looked around – they were in a tiny storage room. For a moment they just stood in there, in silence, both tense, waiting, listening.

The angel finally put his finger to his lips to tell Crowley to remain silent, while he carefully opened the door and peeked out. As an angel, he was still less suspicious than Crowley, and it was, after all, possible that not everyone knew about Aziraphale’s arrest. If someone saw him, with any luck, he’d just be regarded as another random angel. All seemed to be clear, so Aziraphale turned back to Crowley with a short nod. They left the storage room and once again started their way down the hallway and to the door. Since other angels had just come through it, the door seemed at least to lead somewhere. They reached it without any further incidents and slipped through, then hurrying down the next hallway.

After a while, Aziraphale looked around, frowning, and slowed down. Crowley slowed down as well, casting a questioning glance at the angel. “Crowley, I…I know this place. I know where we are, I’ve been here before. I know how to get out of here! It’s not even far!” For a moment, Crowley just stared at Aziraphale, lost for words, so the angel gave him a quick smile and then tugged on his sleeve: “Alright, my dear, jolly good. Hurry, follow me. There’s a way down to Earth close by. If we’re lucky, we’ll slip out without anyone noticing.”

Now it was Aziraphale leading the way, hurrying down a couple of hallways, through a few doors, down a flight of stairs and then into a larger hall with a door and a display panel at the end – their way to freedom, down to Earth, they’d just have to open it and use the escalator downwards. Aziraphale had already started moving again and was a few steps ahead of him, as Crowley allowed himself a sigh of relief. That went better than he’d feared. Afterwards, he mentally kicked himself. After all, you shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch. He really should have known better…

“Hey! You! Stop at once!” Both demon and angel whirled around to see a group of angels hurrying at them. Crowley’s eyes grew wide “Oh fuck!”, he muttered, running to catch up with Aziraphale but making sure he didn’t overtake the angel. With shaking hands, Aziraphale punched in the code to get the door to open, the one thing still blocking their way of escape. The angels behind them came hurrying closer, still yelling at them: “Hey! Stop! What in Heaven’s name are you doing here? Who are you, anyway? You’re not supposed to be up here, this is unauthorised…”

Crowley no longer paid attention and instead turned to Aziraphale: “Angel! C’mon, hurry!” “I’m trying, Crowley! Oh, come on, you…you stupid door…” Crowley looked back over his shoulder at the group of angels getting ever closer. “Hng…Angel!” Aziraphale didn’t react this time. They were so close to escape, _so close!_ They couldn’t be caught now, right at the finish line! By now, the demon was frantic. He glanced over his shoulder again. _No! Nononono! Not now, not like this! Don’t let it end like this, we have to escape_ , was all that went through his mind as he looked back and forth between the group of angels closing in on them and the door to freedom, when, suddenly, with a ‘ding’ the door opened. Aziraphale gasped and hurried through it, Crowley following immediately behind.

The angel stepped on the escalator, but, with another glance back, the demon noticed that at least one of those angels was about to follow and had already stretched out a hand to grab him and pull him back, the others close behind. Crowley hadn’t bothered putting his wings away and he felt a hand grab one of them. There was nothing for it – he gave Aziraphale a rough push and jumped straight after him, both of them tumbling down towards Earth. Aziraphale let out a startled cry and got his own wings out in reflex as he felt that he was falling through the air, but neither he nor Crowley managed to actually take flight. Still, the wings weren’t completely useless – Aziraphale landed on his hands and knees, his fall at least somewhat slowed down by his wings. _Phew, this could have been a lot worse_ , he thought.

He hadn’t even finished the thought when it got worse: Something heavy collided with him, sending him tumbling across the floor, a rolling mess of limbs and feathers, until he found himself on his back, the air knocked out of him by whatever had crashed into him and landed on top of him. He opened his eyes, looked up and realised that it was, in fact, Crowley, staring at him just as shocked and wide-eyed as Aziraphale knew he himself probably looked. The angel was rendered speechless, he could only stare – and felt, to his embarrassment, that he was obviously blushing, judging by the heat he felt up to his ears. “Uh…ngk…ssssorry…”, Crowley finally muttered and scrambled off of him, then offering a hand to help him up. “Well…that wass sssomething…”, he added, his embarrassment not getting any better by the fact that he couldn’t hide that stupid hiss of his.

Aziraphale just huffed and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “You…pushed me down the stairs. Down to Earth”, he finally managed, as he put his wings away, out of sight. Crowley…seemed strangely flustered. “Ah…yeah…well…sssorry. They were…close behind…kinda…” He spread his wings shortly before putting them away and Aziraphale could have sworn that there was a feather missing on one of them. Had they been _this_ close? Close enough to grab…? But then, if they really wanted to catch them, why weren’t they here yet? They’d have to be right behind them. “We should get to safety, I don’t think we’re safe here. Not if they’re still after us.” Crowley nodded. “Agreed, Angel. My place or yours?” Aziraphale looked around. This wasn’t the main entrance he’d usually used, but it was the lobby of a building, just not as fancy as the one he was used to. He moved towards the main door, glancing out. “I…I’m not sure…I think the bookshop is closer, but…I have it warded against demons – except you, of course – but…not against angels…”

Crowley shrugged. “Bookshop it is, then”, he decided, “Course you don’t have it warded against your own kind, Angel…But that can be changed quickly enough…and probably should be.” Aziraphale nodded: “Well…yes…I’d have to check how to do this, though…” But Crowley just gave him a smirk. “Tell ya what, Angel, I can ward your shop against all angels except you – I’ve done the same with my flat, after all. And in return, you help me ward my place against all demons except me, like your bookshop. Because…well, if Heaven is after us again, I bet we’ll hear from Downstairs as well…Can’t wait…”, he added, grumbling. To their relief, nobody came after them and after a while they slowed down the rather brisk pace at which they were walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, as it seems, those angels coming after them had no idea what was going on...and why is nobody following them? Something odd is going on Upstairs...But for now, our two ineffables have escped, at least, even if it was a rather narrow escape...And Crowley is probably right - if Heaven comes after them, surely, so will Hell...  
> I'm still a good way ahead schedule, so, for now, updates will continue to be on a weekly basis.


	4. To Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley have escaped from Heaven and reach the bookshop safely. As promised, Crowley does his best to help the angel protect his home against other angels - and while doing so, he reveals some things about Hell that Aziraphale hasn't really thought about yet...

Twilight had given way to dawn by the time they reached the bookshop, painting the sky in shades of red and gold. This meant that, apparently, they had been locked up in those cells up in Heaven for the whole timespan of the night down on Earth. In Heaven, it was always bright – day and night were for Earth, after all. In very much the same way, Hell was always gloomy – you could never be sure about the time Downstairs. Just another one of the numerous torments of Hell. On another note, however, Aziraphale had also felt somewhat disconcerted when he’d been called up to Heaven late one evening and had returned back down to Earth in the middle of the night, switching directly from heavenly brightness to the inky blackness of earthly midnight.

Right now, though, a new day was just beginning as the angel fumbled for his keys, opened the door and already gestured for Crowley to enter, when he stopped himself. The last time they had entered his home, they’d been ambushed – the memory didn’t sit too well with the angel. “Wait a moment, my dear fellow…there’s no one here this time, right? I don’t…I don’t sense anything off…Do you?” Aziraphale looked at Crowley expectantly, knowing well enough that, for whatever reason, the demon was usually a bit better at sensing such things. Crowley cocked his head, peeking inside. “Nah, ‘s all fine, Angel.” With that, he sauntered in, closely followed by Aziraphale, who let out a sigh of relief as soon as he stood in the shop, with the door closed behind them.

“So…about…warding it against…well…my…” He wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase it, how to refer to all the other angels now (his ‘former colleagues’? His ‘own kind’?), and so, he just trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Crowley turned around and raised his eyebrows. “Against angels? Right…Gimme a moment…” With that, he sighed ever so slightly and went to work, closely followed by Aziraphale, who was observing with curious fascination.

As far as language is concerned, angels and demons, being of the same original stock, basically use the same ancient Enochian for more complex spells, it just…sounds a bit different. _Like two dialects of the same language_ , Aziraphale mused. He could perfectly understand what Crowley was doing and saying, though, and he wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not by the fact that it was quite similar to the spells and invocations he himself had used when he had warded his home against demons – with the exception of the one demon who was currently busy warding the bookshop against angels, that was. Crowley walked around the shop, gesturing while invoking the spells to ward the door, the windows, then the whole interior and finally the building itself. Wherever he gestured, there was a short, faint glow, swiftly fading away again.

Finally, he turned to face the angel who was following him. “Right…so…um…should work, I guess…Try and go out and come back in, maybe?” Aziraphale nodded. Somewhat nervous, he walked out of his own door and then back in again. No problem there. He tried to use a little miracle, transporting himself out and back in again. Also not a problem. “Okay, it seems to be working – as long as I’m the only angel who can enter and leave – but I’m fairly sure of that, since…well…to be honest, what you did is quite similar to what I did against demons…” Crowley smirked. “So? Are ya telling me you would have preferred to do this yourself?”

The angel’s eyes grew wide and he raised his hands in a placating manner. “What? No! I…I mean, I could have tried and I probably would have come up with something very similar, adapting what I used against demons to make it work as a ward against angels, too…But…well…I guess, against angels, a demon’s spells are probably a tad more effective than those of an angel…and vice versa…? I mean…it’s a bit like…” “Fire and water?”, Crowley supplied. “Well…yes, rather…So…don’t think I’m not grateful. Because I am. Very much so. That was very n-” He stopped himself in time before he once again made the mistake of calling Crowley ‘nice’, when he saw the way his demonic friend was looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up. But then Crowley just huffed and rolled his eyes at him. “Well, no problem, Angel…But I guess you’re right about the effectiveness against angels and demons respectively…So…if you don’t mind, I’d…ngk…it’d be…well…uh…kind of you if you could…do the same for my place, as I said…?” Aziraphale smiled warmly. “Oh, of course, dear, you needn’t ask – we’ve already agreed on that.”

Crowley nodded in obvious relief and sighed. He looked exhausted, Aziraphale thought. For a moment, Crowley looked around in the shop, then he turned back to face the angel again: “Uh…Angel…what about…? Has…Heaven ever tried to contact you by any other means than just some angels popping in here in person?” Aziraphale frowned. “What do you mean? I got notes, obviously, they just…sent them to me…same as when I sent some reports back to head office…and…I…I do have a…well, the circle I can use for calls…and I’d rather keep that, too. Might come in handy, you know?” Crowley’s brows shot up at that, his expression the equivalent of a question mark come to life.

Aziraphale sighed and walked past Crowley, gesturing for him to follow. He pulled the rug away and pointed a hand to the fine, delicate lines adorning the floor boards underneath. “I…This is…what got me…accidentally, well…discorporated…” When Crowley didn’t reply, Aziraphale glanced over at him. The angel himself felt a lump in his throat, remembering that fateful moment, and he wasn’t that surprised to see that Crowley had gone quite pale, staring at the circle. “I…I’m sorry…It was an accident, really…I told you…” “Ngh…y-yeah…you…you did…I just…well…’s different actually seeing it…”

Aziraphale reached out to put a comforting hand on his friend’s arm, but stopped halfway, uncertain, letting the hand sink back again and then wringing both his hands together. Finally, he let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. “I’m sorry…”, he muttered, remembering just how utterly broken Crowley had sounded when he’d finally found him in that pub. He hadn’t been able to see anything, but he was fairly certain that if he’d ever witnessed Crowley on the brink of tears, it had been then, in that pub. Now, the demon just shook his head slowly. “’s alright, Angel…not your fault…You…wanna keep it, still? Despite…?”

Crowley finally managed to tear his eyes away from the circle on the floor and back to the face of the angel standing beside him. Aziraphale took a deep breath and nodded. “I readjusted it a bit, it…was always mainly meant for communication. And while it’s possible to use such circles to create portals for _transport_ , it’s…not necessarily recommendable. With proper preparation, it wouldn’t have…discorporated me, either…It’s just…well…I didn’t mean to step into it. After…well, after ‘Armageddidn’t’…I wanted to make sure this couldn’t happen again, so…now it really only works as a means of communication, not of transportation. It’s a one-way, too – I can call Heaven, but… _they_ shouldn’t be able to call _me_ via this…But…if it makes you feel better, you can check and make sure that they can’t and that it’s safe.” He gave Crowley a reassuring smile – at least, he hoped it was reassuring.

The demon nodded. “Well, I trust you on that, Angel. You’re the bookish intellectual of the two of us, after all…so ’m sure you know what you did there…But…yeah, I can make sure that it’s truly a one-way…” He stepped closer to the circle, eyeing it warily, then reaching out his hand with a gesture and a short spell and then he turned back to Aziraphale with a satisfied nod. Aziraphale smiled back at him, but then he remembered how they had ended up here. “Crowley…what did you mean by…well…asking if Heaven ever contacted me in other ways? Because…well, actually, yes, usually, someone would just pop up here personally. Gabriel, if it was important. Others if it was less so…”

Crowley nodded slowly. “So…they never use the phone, huh? Or…the radio?” Now it began to dawn on Aziraphale what Crowley was on about. He opened his mouth for something close to “Ah…” and nodded, then shook his head. “No…Heaven doesn’t do that, it seems…I never got a call from any of them…but…who knows, maybe, if they find they cannot reach me and _want_ to reach me, they’ll try…But well, that won’t be so bad, I’ll just not answer the phone or hang up.” He smiled airily and was a bit surprised when Crowley reacted to that with a groan. “’s not what I meant, Angel. Well…not _only_ what I meant.”

Aziraphale frowned and earned yet another eyeroll and a slight huff for that, which confused him even more. Crowley finally decided to elaborate: “Well…y’know it’s possible to travel via phone line? I mean…size and all that, that’s just options. If anyone from Heaven decided to, they could try to call you and then just…pop in here through the telephone. For example. Hell would do that. Heaven, _I’ve_ done that myself when I tried to escape Hastur! And even if they’re not coming over, they could still check on you whenever they feel like it…or…do worse.”

The angel paled quite a bit. He’d often enough been with Crowley in the Bentley when someone from Hell had called the demon via the radio, but he’d always figured that that was actually a lot more convenient than the way his own superiors handled things. After all, with Hell just dropping in for a call, they couldn’t see that there was an actual angel sitting in the passenger’s seat. If Gabriel or any other angel came over to the bookshop, things were way more dangerous – they were always at risk of being found out. In fact, there had been quite a few instances with Crowley having to make a hasty escape through a back window. So, how was what Hell was doing worse than dropping in personally? “What do you mean, ‘do worse’? I…I mean…yes, I get your point, they could try to call and…yes, I agree, maybe it’s a good idea to specifically ward…any bit of technology that they could use…”, he mentally began to make a list – gramophone, telephone, the old computer, the ancient television he had upstairs, “but…I don’t…I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by ‘worse’. What’s worse than anyone coming over here?”

Crowley hesitated, averting his gaze, and Aziraphale got the distinct feeling that there was something he didn’t know about. But the demon just frowned, sighed and slightly shook his head. “Well…it doesn’t really matter. Doesn’t make a difference – let’s just ward anything you have that may be used in that way and it’ll be fine. And when you help me ward any of my stuff against the other demons…’at’s gonna be alright, then.”

But the angel wasn’t willing to just let this slip now. “Crowley…? There’s…My dear fellow…Is there something you’d…want to talk about?” For quite some time, there was silence in the bookshop and Aziraphale was beginning to think that he wouldn’t get an answer. Crowley seemed fidgety, hands shoved into the pockets of those ridiculously tight jeans, yellow snake-eyes scanning the room. After what felt like an eternity, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and sighed. “Well…ya know…I…I’m not sure how…tight that leash is that Heaven puts on its angels, but…as for Hell…ya know…it’s…it’s not exactly nice to know that…you may be under observation any time if you happen to have the radio or the telly on or anything…and…even worse when they actually use it to…to mess with your brain…”

He didn’t look at Aziraphale but he could almost feel the angel frowning. Well, there was no backtracking now. He sighed again and continued: “What…what I mean is…s-sometimes…well… _mostly_ …instead of coming over in person, they just…If they want something done, if they have instructions, instead of sending someone – or send a letter, Heaven, why not send a blessed letter? – well…they just take a more direct approach and…kinda…download it right into your brain. Zoning you out for a moment, snap, just like that”, he snapped his fingers to illustrate, “Not a pleasant experience, that. And…especially not very recommendable when they do that while you’re driving. Nearly got me discorporated a coupla times. Well…would have been their bloody fault if they make me space out like that without asking…but of course, they’d have blamed it on _me_ , naturally. Probably be even happy about an opportunity to punish me for not fulfilling my assigned task and getting discorporated instead. Bloody bastards.”

Again, there was silence for quite some time. Aziraphale stared at his friend, a hand clasped over his mouth, while Crowley was still staring at the floor. Finally, the angel found his voice once again: “I…Oh, my dear boy, I…I’m so sorry…I had no idea…How intrusive! That…that’s…that’s terrible! What a living nightmare…I’m so, so sorry…” Crowley finally looked at him with a somewhat bitter smile. “Well, that’s Hell for you, Angel. ’s not supposed to be nice. Guess they…want to make sure that way that you never forget who you belong to. Who…owns you, in a way…Not even your own mind is truly your own.”

Aziraphale frowned. “You’re not Hell’s property, Crowley, just as I’m not Heaven’s. Our own side, remember? And…well, if you ask me, you’ve always had a mind of your own, chose your own path, made your own choices. I mean…”, he smiled at the demon, “you befriended an angel…” Crowley gave a soft chuckle. “Well, I could argue I did that to tempt said angel…” But Aziraphale just smiled for a moment and shook his head. “Well…I’m so sorry they did this to you…and…I’ll make sure it won’t happen again. I promise.” The smile he got from the demon this time was a genuine, grateful one. “Thanks, Angel”, he muttered, then he sighed again. Aziraphale looked him over once again, noticing again how exhausted the demon looked. But before he could say anything along those lines, Crowley beat him to it: “Angel…if you don’t mind…I, um…Mind if I crash on the sofa? ‘m pretty tired…”

Aziraphale gave him a warm smile. “Oh, of course you can sleep here. For as long as you like. I…I don’t think I’ll open the shop today, I feel rather spent myself…I think I’ll settle down with a few books and a nice cup of cocoa…But…you…you don’t have to sleep on the sofa, dear…I…actually, I have a bedroom. I hardly ever use it, so…I guess a bed is probably more comfortable for sleeping? And when we both have…well, recharged a bit, we’ll take care of warding your flat against anyone from Downstairs…”

Crowley’s eyes had grown wide as the angel was talking. Was Aziraphale really offering him his bed? His own bed? After a moment, he noticed that he was staring at the angel open-mouthed. “Uh…uhm…ngk…y-…you’re really…hn…I…can sleep in your…bed…?” “Well, if you like…I just thought it’s more comfortable than the sofa…and you do look rather tired…so…” Aziraphale shrugged, blushing quite a bit.

Crowley managed to nod, but the words left him – all he could come up with were some noises, but the angel knew him well enough to understand him anyway. Aziraphale smiled and reached out his hand, inviting Crowley to take it and follow him. He’d been in the angel’s little upstairs flat above the bookshop before, but only shortly. After all, even Aziraphale himself spent most of the time down in the shop. The only part of the flat that he did use frequently was the kitchen. Now, however, he was leading a slightly stumbling Crowley to the rarely-used bedroom, opened the door and invited the demon in with a gesture.

“It’s all yours…It’s nice and soft and warm…and if you close the shutters and draw the blinds, it’s also dark”, he added, squinting at the sun shining into the room through the windows. There were tiny flecks of dust dancing around, but Crowley, stepping past Aziraphale and looking around, didn’t mind that in the least. The room was definitely very ‘Aziraphale’, all in all. At least, the bed sheets were light blue and not, as he had feared, with frills and rose prints and the like. But there was, also as he had feared, a woollen coverlet in the angel’s typical tartan pattern on the bed. But tartan or no, it was a bed, it was very inviting – and it was Aziraphale’s. Of course, Crowley wouldn’t say no to this. With a sigh, he sat down on the bed – and it was _soft_. A smile spread across his face. “Thanks, ‘ngel…” Aziraphale smiled back at him. “If there’s anything you need…well, you know where to find me…Well…sleep well, then, my dear…”

With that, the angel left and closed the door behind him. Crowley still smiled slightly to himself. This was…unexpected. With a slight huff and a shrug, he snapped his fingers to close the shutters, leaving the room in darkness. Another snap and he had changed his clothes for the soft black silk pyjamas he normally wore when he slept in his own bed in his flat. Definitely more comfortable to sleep in these. With a sigh, he allowed himself to collapse backwards onto the bed, and a moment later he was under the covers and sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought of that one particular scene when Crowley gets the instructions on what he's supposed to do with the Antichrist while he's driving as rather...unsettling. And I've found, I'm not the only one to think so, so I'm sort of getting in line here with LollipopCop's "The Quiet, Persistent, Gnawing Unease" as well as the Tumbl post that served as the inspiration there:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416164/chapters/51025279  
> https://tsilvy.tumblr.com/post/188461454640/id-like-to-talk-about-something-that-has-been  
> So, glad I'm not alone here and thanks to both of these for some inspiration in the background!


	5. A Short Reprieve at the Bookshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the bookshop, Crowley enjoys some sleep while Aziraphale spends the day and the following night watching over his demon and doing some research. He is fairly certain that something about their arrest was weird and he's starting to plan some things concerning that. The next morning, the angel proves that he does not only enjoy going out for lunches and dinners, but also knows how to use his own kitchen. And Crowley definitely wouldn't say no to a nice, domestic breakfast with his angel...

Aziraphale settled down on the sofa with a few books and a mug filled with cocoa and, putting his completely superfluous reading glasses on his nose, he began to immerse himself in the first book he grabbed from the little pile of books he’d placed on the table. He read for a while, until he noticed that he had to reread sentences and entire passages and that he was beginning to actually nod off. The angel rarely slept – after all, there were so many things he could get done instead of indulging in sleep, but, considering the circumstances, he figured that it was perfectly reasonable for him to doze for just a bit. So, he put the book back onto the pile on the table, put the reading glasses away and leaned back.

When he woke up again an hour or so later, he was somewhat surprised that he had actually truly fallen asleep. This thought led him to thinking about the demon who was currently sleeping in the bed upstairs. Was Crowley alright? It wouldn’t hurt to check, would it? And on the way, he could get another cup of cocoa from the kitchen. Aziraphale nodded to himself, feeling already somewhat refreshed after his short nap, and got up.

He hesitated in front of the bedroom door. Sure, it was his own home and it wasn’t the first time Crowley had spent the night here – but usually, he did so on the sofa and this here felt ever so slightly different, somehow. As quietly as possible, the angel opened the door just a bit and peeked inside. He was relieved to see that his friend was obviously sleeping peacefully. It was fairly dark in the room, but Aziraphale could still make out the shape on the bed and shortly marvelled on the way the light from outside the door caught in the tousled strands of fiery red hair. Crowley was sleeping on his stomach, hugging the pillow, just the blanket had somewhat slid off. Aziraphale tutted slightly, shook his head and, with a soft smile, pulled the blanket back up. After all, he didn’t want Crowley to wake up because he felt cold.

For a moment he just stood there, looking down at the sleeping demon with a fond smile. Then, quite spontaneously, he muttered: “May you dream of whatever you like best…” He turned to leave when he heard Crowley sigh and mumble in his sleep, and when he turned back around, he saw in the dim light that the demon was smiling now. Whatever he mumbled sounded suspiciously like ‘Angel’, but Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure about it. He wondered if he’d accidentally woken his friend, but that didn’t seem to be the case, so, with another fond smile, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

When Crowley woke up, the first thing he noticed was a rather inviting smell of…food of various kinds, as it seemed…the next thing was a slight clattering noise and a soft humming from somewhere outside the bedroom. Somewhat confused, he opened his eyes, but that didn’t help much to ease his confusion, at least not straight away. Where was he? And what…? But finally, his sleep-addled brain caught up with the most recent events. His lopsided smirk was disrupted by a hearty yawn, then he stretched, yawned again and slipped out of the bed to follow the noises and the smell.

Aziraphale was happily humming to himself while he busied himself with preparing a hearty breakfast. He had spent the rest of the day as well as the night among his books, first just reading for recreation, but then, his thoughts had drifted back to Heaven and the fact that they’d been arrested and had no idea for what reason exactly. Treason? But that hardly made sense, since neither of them worked for Heaven any more. Crowley had ‘quit’ that job millennia ago, Aziraphale had when they’d averted the Apocalypse. Somehow, the angel couldn’t help but feel that there was something odd about this whole thing. And that was why he was determined to try and get information as soon as the dust had settled a little. So, he began to look into other kinds of books, trying to come up with a follow-up plan to their abduction to and escape from Heaven. After all, if Heaven was truly after them, they might not even be able to leave the bookshop at all. And as much as the angel liked his bookshop, being confined to it didn’t sound too alluring.

Eventually, he’d become peckish and had eaten the remainder of the shortbread that he had stashed in the little tin box while pondering their current situation. Thus, he’d spent the rest of the day as well as the following night, knowing that Crowley was still sleeping soundly. After all, otherwise the demon would have come back down, wouldn’t he? When the night turned into morning, however, and his stomach told him that it was time for breakfast – in fact, time for quite a copious amount of food; he hadn’t eaten anything but the shortbread the whole day before, he’d been too busy – the angel went back upstairs with the intention of preparing a hearty breakfast for both of them.

Therefore, Aziraphale was currently right in the middle of preparing a whole variety of food and the mere thought of it put him in a cheerful mood. He kept an eye on the scrambled eggs, magically keeping them warm and in just the right state of fluffiness, he let the strips of bacon go nice and crisp, kept the baked beans warm as well as the sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes, while, parallel to that, he was making pancakes with syrup. The slices of toast, too, were kept warm and crispy for as long as they’d needed to be. Without the help of some miracles, this might have been difficult to handle due to all the multitasking involved, but he was an angel, after all, and so, he hummed to himself happily, his attention constantly drifting between the various kinds of food he was preparing.

“Morn’n’, Angel…” Startled, Aziraphale let out a slight yelp and whirled around. Crowley was slouching against the door frame, yawning and looking rather dishevelled, his hair a tousled mess. What an endearing sight! The angel stared for a while, somewhat surprised, because the demon was…still in his pyjamas. Aziraphale could only guess that Crowley must have miracled them over the day before, when he went to sleep – when he’d come to check on Crowley, it had been too dark in the room to actually make out what the demon had been wearing then.

Right now, Crowley was blinking slowly. Since he normally didn’t blink a lot, this caught Aziraphale’s attention. “Oh…good morning, Crowley. Did you sleep well?”, he ventured with a smile. “Hmm…yeah, did…Whatcha doin’ there, Angel?” “Oh…”, Aziraphale looked back at the cooker, “well…breakfast. I was getting rather hungry and I thought you might like some too…I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, but…well, here you are, perfect timing…” The demon hummed in reply and sauntered over, peeking curiously over the angel’s shoulder. “Breakfast, eh? What’s for breakfast, then?” “Well…the classic, more or less…Scrambled eggs, bacon, baked beans, sausages…oh, and pancakes, too…”

Crowley chuckled. Of course, the angel would favour the pancakes. “Sounds good…D’ya have any coffee, too, by any chance?”, he asked, his eyes falling on the steaming tea pot. Aziraphale’s face fell slightly: “Oh…I…I’m afraid I’m more for tea, really…I…I do have some coffee here, but…I’m not quite sure how to get it right…” “Ah, no problem, just gimme a mug and the coffee and I’ll do it…” Aziraphale nodded and was opening a cupboard, reaching for the coffee and the coffee filters, when Crowley added: “Oh, but…not the one with the angel wings, if you please.” The angel laughed good-humouredly. “I wouldn’t give that to you anyway, you foul fiend, that’s _my_ mug, after all.”

He handed Crowley the coffee and the filters and then reached for a mug. “Here…”, Aziraphale almost shoved it into Crowley’s hand, “that one should do nicely. Fits you rather well.” Crowley frowned at the mug. It was dark green. How and why was this supposed to fit him? He shook his head in irritation but decided that he wouldn’t ask the angel about that – at least not until he’d had some coffee. “Wha’ever…”, he muttered and then proceeded to make a bit of a show of making the coffee, letting the filter hover in the air over the mug, while he miracled the right amount of coffee into it and then added as much hot water as he needed. Aziraphale watched with interest – which was actually one of the reasons why Crowley was preparing the coffee this way instead of just miracling it into existence. “Sugar?”, he asked and was promptly handed the sugar bowl. Adding some of that, he picked up the mug and took a sip, closing his eyes, savouring the taste and smiling contentedly. After that, he turned to Aziraphale and concluded with a smirk: “Sweet, strong, hot and black as my soul.”

The angel’s eyebrows shot up and he huffed in a mixture of surprise and amusement. He wasn’t entirely sure if Crowley only meant ‘black as his soul’ – which, in the angel’s opinion, obviously wasn’t true, but well, Crowley was a demon, after all – or if he’d actually meant that all those adjectives were fitting his soul. Well…sweet? Strong? _Hot?_ Aziraphale shook his head, trying to fight the blush. Really, what was he thinking? He gazed back at the demon standing beside him, leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping his coffee. “So? Good Lord…”, he muttered, before he caught himself and added: “Well…nice pyjamas, by the way…” Now Crowley was the one raising his eyebrows. “Oh…ah…mmng…well…I…Sssorry, I…forgot…Not fully here yet, ssstill need some more coffee to function, it seems…”

With a snap of his fingers, he was once again properly dressed, but he still seemed slightly embarrassed. Aziraphale raised a hand to his mouth, but couldn’t fight back the chuckle. “It’s alright, dear…Well…Now, for next time, I know how to make your coffee…” Crowley gave him a tentative smile. “That’s…actually the same coffee I have at home…Did you…?” Aziraphale nodded, rather proud of himself. As soon as he’d found out what kind of coffee Crowley usually preferred, he’d acquired some of that, in case they’d need it at the bookshop. “Clever angel”, Crowley acknowledged. Aziraphale beamed back at him, blushing ever so slightly. “Well, it wasn’t that difficult to find out…So…care to sit down for breakfast?”

Once they were seated, Aziraphale was pleased to notice that Crowley actually tucked in quite a bit. While the angel took some of everything and finally settled on the pancakes for the last serving, the demon seemed to take quite a liking to the bacon and eggs…especially the bacon. “So…sorry, didn’t ask…How long did I sleep? What did you do?”, Crowley asked. “Oh, just the rest of the day yesterday and the whole night through”, the angel explained and then continued to fill Crowley in on what he’d done in the meantime and on some of his thoughts.

“You want to contact Heaven and back-check? Really?” The demon didn’t sound convinced at all. Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood to start the day with an argument, though. He raised his hand in a placating manner. “Well, we’ll see…First, we’re going to take care of your flat, warding it all against Hell…right?” Crowley sighed, but he nodded: “Yeah…before Heaven’s latest actions give them any ideas…” Their conversation then shifted to some lighter topics for the remainder of their breakfast.

Still chatting about this and that, they made their way down to the bookshop a while later. Aziraphale contemplated opening it for today, and he began to bustle around, moving the books he’d piled up over the last 24 hours back to the shelves where they belonged. In the meantime, Crowley had sauntered through the shop and was looking out of the window. And then he frowned. “Angel…?” Aziraphale stopped what he was doing and stepped a bit closer. “Yes? What is it?” “Uh…d’you remember if I left the Bentley here?” Aziraphale frowned as well and came over to where Crowley was standing. “Erm…I…I’m not sure…Why do you ask?” Only now did Crowley turn back around to face the angel, but he pointed with his thumb out of the window. “Because it’s standing there. Right where I always leave it…But I could have sworn…” He shook his head with an irritated frown.

Aziraphale peeked past Crowley out of the window. Sure as Hell, the Bentley was there. The angel shrugged. “Well…I don’t really know…You’ve come here so often lately…sometimes by car, sometimes…well…not.” “Yeah…you may be right…”, Crowley didn’t sound fully convinced. “But…well, what the Heaven…Either I’m slowly getting paranoid or forgetful – or both – or someone has been messing with my car”, his expression and tone turned dark, “and I don’t like that. Not. One. Bit. So, if that’sss the cassse…” This time, Aziraphale actually did put a hand on Crowley’s arm. “Well, let’s not be rash, my dear. I guess there’s only one way – we’ll have to go out there and check…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, some domestic stuff, I guess. They really needed a break, after all. But yes, Aziraphale has some plans and ideas concerning Heaven. The mre pressing issue, however, is what's going on with the Bentley now...And yes, since I myself really am not myself without my coffee in the morning, I'm quite convinced that Crowley needs his caffeine, especially after a longer sleep. Like "instant demon, just add coffee". One might wonder if he phrased his comment on how he likes his coffee like this on purpose to fluster the angel...  
> Yes, I uploaded earlier than usual, but I'm still fairly ahead of schedule and this and the last chapter kinda go well together, so here we go...


	6. Gotta Feel for my Automobile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Crowley discovers his car in front of the bookshop, but cannot remember if he'd actually left the Bentley there in the first place, he and Aziraphale naturally get somewhat suspicious. But since, at first glance, nothing seems to be off about the car, there's only one way to check: Go for a drive. Well, of course, there had to be something wrong with the Bentley, after all...

A moment later, a demon and an angel were inspecting a vintage Bentley in front of a Soho bookshop. That is, Crowley was inspecting it, mostly, with Aziraphale staying slightly back. Before leaving the bookshop, Crowley had put the sunglasses on again, but Aziraphale knew him well enough to notice his critical, sceptical gaze. He prowled around the car slowly, intent on trying to sense if there was anything off. The angel tried the same, but after all, this was Crowley’s car and Crowley definitely knew it best.

Finally, the demon just shrugged and grunted. “Is it…is it okay?”, Aziraphale asked. This got Crowley to turn around and face him. “Well…It’s…weird. I don’t sense anything off about it, but…well…thing is, I don’t sense anything _at all_ about it. I mean…y’know…it’s my car, I should…It should feel…”, he shook his head, looking back at the Bentley again, “but it undoubtedly _is_ my car. ‘at’s about the only thing I actually do feel about it…” Once again, a headshake and a shrug. Crowley seemed baffled. Confused. He frowned. “Well, I guess I’m just getting paranoid after those last events…” “Well, if it’s any reassurance for you, I cannot sense anything off about it, either – apart from the fact that it is, as you said, undoubtedly your Bentley”, Aziraphale ventured.

Crowley turned back to look at the angel. “Maybe…maybe I should go for a drive, to check and make sure…” But Aziraphale jumped right in, as Crowley trailed off: “No, dear, you’re definitely not doing this alone!” Crowley raised an eyebrow and grinned teasingly: “Angel…now don’t tell me you actually _like_ to go for a drive with me…” The angel in question seemed slightly flustered: “Well…uhm…We should probably better stay together for the nearest future anyway – better safe than sorry, you know…Until we get things sorted…So…if you’re going to test your car, I will most certainly not let you do this alone. I…trust you’ll do your best not to get us discorporated. So…if you…at least _try_ to drive reasonably, for a change?” Crowley’s grin had only grown wider while Aziraphale spoke. “Well, alright, let’s go for a lil tour then…Go on, get in, Angel…” With that, he opened the passenger side door for the angel and was in the driver’s seat a moment later.

“Sooo…where d’you wanna go, Angel?”, Crowley asked expectantly. Aziraphale shrugged. “Erm…I’m not sure…Maybe…we could just…go for a drive out of the city…until we’re sure that everything’s fine…” The demon nodded: “Out of the city…yeah, sounds fine by me…” He started the engine and began to drive. Nothing unusual happened, except for the fact that, for once, Crowley was actually driving carefully and – by his standards – slowly. It was obvious that he didn’t trust the situation, warily eyeing the car, the world outside, the road and the traffic around them. Aziraphale said nothing. Despite Crowley’s moderate driving – or maybe precisely because of it – he felt tense. He was also certain that the demon was currently concentrating rather hard, so he didn’t want to interrupt. For quite some time, they drove in silence.

When nothing had happened after a while, Crowley began to visibly relax. This was his car and it felt like it. Something still seemed slightly off, but he guessed that that was maybe just himself being overly suspicious. He sped up a little, which, ironically, got Aziraphale to relax a bit more as well. Normally, the angel would have admonished him, but today he seemed relieved when he noticed that Crowley relaxed and that everything seemed to be fine. On a whim, the demon switched on the radio. Ed Sheeran came on. And stayed on. Crowley frowned. “That’s odd”, he muttered. “What is?”, Aziraphale asked, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “Well…it should be Queen, shouldn’t it? This car doesn’t play anything else. Nothing but Queen. On the radio, and whatever CD you leave in here for more than two weeks will transform into Queen automatically.” Crowley shook his head in irritation and glared at the radio.

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to frown. “Wait…so…it’s not _you_ , it’s the _car_ doing that? I always thought it was you…” But Crowley just shrugged. “Well, Angel…I won’t deny that I…might be somewhat of a fan – I mean, how could anyone not be? But…yeah, the old girl normally…does that pretty much by herself. Guess she’s a fan, too…Or…was…?” “Hmm…well, maybe your Bentley wants to try something new for a change?” “Maybe…” Crowley scowled. He didn’t sound convinced at all. They continued on their way out of the city and kept listening to the radio. By now, something by Lady Gaga was on. Crowley huffed and shrugged. “’s odd, though”, he muttered, but kept on driving.

Apart from the music, nothing else seemed to be off – at least for a while. Still, Crowley couldn’t get himself to relax again, and that seemed to rub off on Aziraphale, who sat quiet, tense and even more upright than usual in the passenger seat. They had left London behind and, driving without any direction or destination in mind, they soon found themselves on some road in the country, with trees, little forests, fields, streams and green meadows to either side. Neither angel nor demon paid much attention to the view. Crowley was still determined to test the car, though, and so he was back to his more usual way of driving – which was, well, quite a bit too fast for Aziraphale’s liking, who was clutching the edge of his seat.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging sound from the car engine and then it began to make sputtering noises. Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide. “What…what was that? What’s happening?” The angel’s voice sounded rather a bit too high. But Crowley seemed just as shocked as he was. The car slowed down – or was it Crowley stepping off the gas pedal? Aziraphale wasn’t sure. At any rate, he noticed that Crowley was staring straight ahead, wide-eyed behind his dark glasses, and clutching the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. “I…”, the demon began, but then he noticed the slight trail of steam coming out from under the bonnet. “Ngk…shit!”

There was a dirt road branching off the road to the right ahead of them and since there was no traffic to speak of, Crowley pulled over and stopped the car right there. He sighed heavily and then got out of the car. A moment later, the bonnet was up and Aziraphale, still sitting in the car, could no longer see anything. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he wanted to be helpful, at least. With a worried sigh, he got out of the car as well and found Crowley bent over the still steaming engine, peering around, squinting, his fingers fumbling, tugging and feeling around for anything that might be leaking or have come loose, trying to find out what was wrong.

Crowley wasn’t a mechanic – far from it, in fact. He knew a few basics about his Bentley, of course – after all, he’d had the car from new. But all these years, there had never been any issue. He had never had to get anything fixed, he didn’t even have to put any petrol in the car. All this was because it was his car and he simply willed it to work. Now, it seemed, that that was no longer the case. Of course, he could have fixed things with a miracle, but he had a bad feeling about that, and so he tried to find out if he could see what was wrong and if it could be fixed by other means. For once, he was grateful for the fact that heat doesn’t bother demons too much – otherwise, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to put his hands into that boiling hot engine. It was…dirty and greasy…and still steaming…He bent down lower, trying to see more, when he suddenly heard Aziraphale’s voice right beside him: “Can I help?”

Crowley hadn’t heard the angel get out of the car or walk up to him, and so he jumped, startled, and hit his head on the bonnet. “Ungk…Ouch!” He turned around, rubbing the back of his head, looking right into the angel’s blue-green eyes. “Oh…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”, Aziraphale said and then repeated his offer to help. “’s fine, didn’t hear you…Since when do you know anything about cars, Angel?” Aziraphale raised his brows. “Well…I don’t…But…I do know a thing or two about miracles, so…” But Crowley shook his head: “Well, surprise, surprise, so do I. Sure, I could fix this with a little miracle, but that won’t fix the actual problem, on the contrary.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Do you…think someone is after us, keeping tracks on…?” Crowley sighed and nodded. He ran a hand over his face and straight through his hair, accidentally leaving a trail of greasy black dirt behind. It was only now that Aziraphale noticed that his friend’s hands were practically covered in sticky black. Crowley, apparently, hadn’t noticed at all. He sighed again. “Someone tampered with my car. And…as it seems, all the stuff I’d originally done with the old girl to keep her in her pristine, always functioning condition seems to have been…over-written by someone. Very neat. Very clever. Must be someone who knows how to cover their tracks very well indeed, since we both couldn’t sense anything. Or…not clearly, that is.” Absentmindedly, his hands wandered to his face again, leaving more black tracks. He scoffed. “I should have known…I should have known better. Should’ve trusted my instinct. Thing is, I’m pretty sure that whoever did this had exactly this in mind – me ending up somewhere with a broken-down car and naively fixing it with a miracle. You know as well as I do that, when someone’s searching for them, miracles are easily picked up, especially those on a larger scale such as this would be.”

The angel sighed, but he nodded. “That…sounds very logical, my dear…Oh…by the way…you…you have…black streaks all over your face and in your hair…Your…your hands…” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, then he stared at his blackened hands, only to groan at the realisation. Aziraphale handed him a handkerchief. “Th’nks, Angel…” Crowley seemed rather despondent. “So…no miracles, it is”, Aziraphale stated while the demon was busy trying to clean his face and hands, “but…there must be other ways. Cars break down all the time. You…don’t know what exactly is wrong or how to fix it, I assume?” Crowley dejectedly shook his head, so Aziraphale continued: “Well, then…I guess our best shot is to call the AA, then…Maybe they can help…They could at least get us back home and get your car to a garage…or…well, I guess, in the safe vicinity of the bookshop, we might as well use a miracle and fix it ourselves…if…they’d be willing to tow us there or something.”

Crowley looked less than pleased. “I have my doubts that they’ll know how to handle such an old vintage car. Or that they can fix it on the spot…” “Well, do you have a better idea? As it seems, we’re stuck here, Crowley, so, unless we are to fly home and leave the car here – which I highly doubt you’d want…” The glare he got for suggesting this was enough of an answer. After a moment, Crowley finally sighed. “Fine. Let’s call them, then…” With that, he took out his mobile phone and made a call.

Crowley was pacing back and forth, talking to a service member of the AA and gesturing while doing so. Aziraphale waited. _Over-written Crowley’s initial work on his car, well, that explains everything – the lack of…his Queen music, the…strange feeling…it makes sense_ , the angel thought. It also meant that whoever did this was exceptionally good at covering their tracks. That was unsettling. Since they’d tampered with Crowley’s Bentley, it was likely that this was Hell’s doing, but after Heaven arresting them both, Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Hell was after Crowley or after both of them. And he didn’t know which possibility he liked less.

Crowley finally pulled him out of his thoughts. “They said – as I suspected – that they aren’t sure they can fix it, but they’ll send someone over to take a look at it and at least help us get back home”, he explained, “Said it’ll take a while, though…Prob’ly 45 minutes, an hour or so…” Crowley trailed off. He seemed…somewhat helpless. And he looked rather miserable. Aziraphale looked up the dirt road behind Crowley. It trailed slightly uphill, with some trees to either side. In fact, it looked rather charming.

“Well, my dear…then I guess we’ll have to wait and see…What would you say if we…just went for a walk up there and then come back in time?” Crowley was about to protest, but Aziraphale continued: “Don’t worry, I doubt anyone will steal your car…I mean…how? They can’t move it. And if we lock it, really, nothing should happen. I guess we could both use a little walk to relax a bit…” _…and you do look rather tense_ , he added in thought, but didn’t say it. After a moment of hesitation, Crowley finally grumbled and nodded. “Fine…let’s go then…”, he muttered. With that, he turned around and sauntered off, following the pathway up the slope. Aziraphale smiled and shook his head, but then followed promptly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have a rather old car myself (even if it's not nearly as old as Crowley's Bentley) and I love my "old girl" very much. This is my third car, altogether, and I've had a few breakdowns with all my cars, worst of all when I blew my headgasket in New Zealand in the middle of nowhere, so I kinda relate to Crowley here.  
> Yes, updates have been more frequent recently - the reason being that I'm still quite well ahead of schedule (currently busy writing chapter 16), so I can allow myself to publish a bit more without having to fear that eventually I won't be able to publish at least a chapter per week because I'm running out of finished chapters. For now, I'm good, yay!


	7. When Things Go Pear-Shaped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This one gets a bit more brutal, there are some broken bones, blood, torn feathers and a death (no, I certainly won't kill Aziraphale or Crowley, rest assured).
> 
> After the Bentley has broken down, Aziraphale and Crowley have gone for a walk to pass the time. Maybe they should have suspected that they were being watched and followed, becaue now that Heaven already tried and failed, it's time for Hell to make a move. And they certainly don't just send rude notes.

“You cannot be serious! Who in their right mind would prefer pears over apples?” Crowley shook his head in indignation. “Well…But…Crowley, my dear, look…Apples are…I won’t say they’re boring, of course not. But they are rather…mundane…” Crowley pulled a face – had Aziraphale claimed that he preferred rotten fish over cake, the demon couldn’t have looked more irritated. He scoffed and shook his head once more, and Aziraphale was quite certain that he was rolling his eyes behind those dark glasses. “And pears aren’t? I mean…look around yourself…”, the demon made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “You’re just biased, Angel. Just because it was an apple that…well…started it all…” “Well, maybe _you_ are biased because of that very reason, don’t you think? I like pears! They are lovely! And very underrated.” “They’re mealy! No comparison to a crisp, juicy apple, just right between sweet and sour…” Aziraphale smiled. “Is that what you said to Eve to tempt her into eating that apple?” Crowley stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the angel. “I did not! I mean…I…ngk…oh, forget it, Angel!” He shook his head again and started walking again, trying to hide the slight blush rising on his cheeks. “Besides, there are mealy apples, too…as well as juicy pears…Rather delicious ones, I might add”, Aziraphale added smugly. He was highly amused and felt rather pleased with himself for having won this argument. Crowley just grumbled.

They were walking along a pathway that the initial dirt road had turned into, and this current argument had been started by the fact that, after some small woods, a field and the like, now there were meadows with fruit trees on both sides – mostly apple trees and pear trees. “Well, it’s perfectly alright if you prefer apples, my dear fellow. Leaves more pears for me…”, Aziraphale said, still smiling, while he reached up to pick a pear from one of the trees standing right beside the pathway. He took a bite and smiled beatifically. Crowley groaned in exasperation. “Well, good if you eat all the pears – leaves more apples for me then, I suppose”, he replied, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t say that I _don’t_ like apples”, the angel retorted, wiggling ever so slightly, feeling rather smug for having won their discussion. Crowley sighed and looked at him again. “You’re quite a bastard, you know that, Aziraphale?” The angel began to laugh. “Well, so you keep telling me, my dear…”

The demon raised an eyebrow at that, but then he began to chuckle as well. Shaking his head, he muttered: “Why am I even still talking to you? This is ridiculous…” “It is, rather…and I guess that’s the whole point, my dear fellow.” For a moment, both just looked at each other. For once, Crowley’s smile was an honest, warm and open one. Aziraphale practically glowed. Not in a literal sense, but if there was anything heavenly on Earth, it was the angel’s smile right now. He was perfectly happy, just pleased with the fact that he had succeeded in getting his friend’s mind off the broken-down Bentley. In the same moment, Crowley’s thoughts took a similar turn. His smile faded a bit, but he was grateful for the angel’s efforts to lift his mood. “Thanks, Angel”, he muttered before he started walking again. “It’ll be fine, Crowley, don’t worry”, Aziraphale tried to reassure him, as he promptly followed him along the pathway. “Sure will”, the demon replied without even turning around. He didn’t sound entirely convinced.

They continued their walk until the meadows with the apple and pear trees were replaced by woods to the left and some lone trees and a rather nice view to the right. There were hills and, quite close to the pathway, something like a small cliff, where the hill that the path wound across broke off abruptly and ended in another hill a short way down, gently sloping up again. Beyond that hill, one could see quite far into the country – a rather picturesque view indeed.

The angel stopped to actually enjoy the view for a moment, but then he…sensed something odd. Something felt wrong. Like a dark presence shifting in and out of perceptibility. Changing direction constantly. Frowning, Aziraphale turned to Crowley. The demon seemed positively frozen, hardly breathing. “Crowley…?” “Shh!” Crowley raised a hand in a gesture to demand silence. Both angel and demon tried hard for a moment to find out whatever dark presence was hiding here – and where it was hiding – but neither seemed to be able to pinpoint it down. Aziraphale shivered. In reflex, he drew nearer to Crowley. “Crowley, what is this? What’s going on?”, he asked, hardly above a whisper. Crowley turned to look at him: “Not quite sure, but if it is what I think it is…” He shook his head and then looked around in another desperate attempt to locate the presence closing in on them. Without having to think about it, both of them materialised their wings – it might very well be possible that they’d need to escape whoever was after them as quickly as they could. But without knowing where the danger was coming from, how and in which direction were they supposed to flee?

It remained impossible to locate the presence, despite the feeling of impending doom getting stronger. _Whoever this is must be exceptionally good at shielding their aura, their very essence_ , Aziraphale thought. He’d never felt anything like this. “Oh fuck”, Crowley muttered, looking around frantically. He seemed to at least have an inkling as to what was going on, but Aziraphale didn’t get the chance to ask him. The next thing he noticed was that something pushed Crowley away from his side and over the little cliff to their right. It all happened so fast that Aziraphale didn’t even really see anything. “Crowley!”, he shouted, but his friend was already gone and out of reach. The angel reacted promptly, immediately racing into the same direction, his wings giving him quite a bit of additional speed.

But he didn’t make it to the cliff over which Crowley had vanished. Something slammed into him, full front, pushing him backwards towards the path and the trees on the other side. Aziraphale landed hard on his back, tried to get up immediately, only to be shoved back down. Only now did he get to actually see his attacker. A demon, doubtlessly, with glowing red eyes, claws and unfurled black wings. The demon was huge and…it was still hardly possible to connect his aura to him. It seemed to continuously shift around him. The angel didn’t really have time to wonder about this, though – he was more occupied with trying to fight said demon off.

Despite usually giving the appearance of ‘soft, warm and harmless’, Aziraphale actually knew a thing or two about fighting – after all, he’d been the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, a position one didn’t get without a certain amount of combat training. He just didn’t like fighting and usually avoided violence if he could. Right now, however, he fought back with a courage mainly born from despair, punching and kicking and thrashing and jabbing with his wings. The fight didn’t last long, though: The demon was apparently a well-versed fighter and had soon pinned the angel down. Aziraphale squirmed, but the only parts of his body he was still able to use for his defence were his wings, and so, he did just that, beating them furiously and trying to hit his attacker with them.

This desperate attempt, however, didn’t go unpunished, for all it did was infuriate the demon. With an angry growl, he grabbed the angel’s left wing with both hands. Aziraphale let out a startled yelp – wings were rather sensitive, after all. But alas, his adversary wasn’t done – far from it. The demon maintained a firm grip on the wing and bent it. It hurt, agonisingly so, and then, there was a sickening crack. White-hot pain seared through the angel’s wing and from there through his whole body as well as his essential ethereal being. He heard someone screaming and only realised a moment later, through a blurry veil of agony, that that was his own voice. The whole fight had probably only lasted seconds. The demon grabbed the sobbing, whimpering angel by his coat and shoved him backwards against the next tree. Aziraphale couldn’t help but cry out when his broken wing got dragged across the ground. He found himself in a sitting position, his back against the tree trunk, but he was no longer able to fight or resist in any way. “You I’ll deal with later”, grumbled the demon and pulled out a rope from God knew where.

This was when, through the haze of pain, Aziraphale realised that Crowley, sans sunglasses, was just scrambling somewhat groggily up the cliff on the other side of the pathway – and that he himself was about to be bound to a tree. He’d be in just as much of a helpless position now as he’d been up in Heaven. No help for Crowley – and that strange demon was definitely after Crowley and was very likely intending to kill him or at least seriously harm him. Somehow, this helped Aziraphale to push through the agonising pain throbbing in his wing and concentrate on the here and now, at least for a moment. He had to make sure that he wouldn’t end up tied to this tree without any chance of escape. And he knew just how to achieve that without his captor noticing. He also remembered something else that might just come in handy in fighting off a demon if he could only manage to free himself. Desperate times called for desperate measures…

The demon tied the injured angel to the tree with almost hasty impatience. The ropes burned quite a bit – Aziraphale could only assume that they were of hellish origin. But that pain was nothing compared to the waves of agony that came from his left wing. He dared to cast a short glance over at it only to see his own blood dripping from his ruffled feathers, deep red with tiny speckles of golden on soft, pearly white plumage, the tip of the wing hanging in an awkward angle. The very sight made the angel feel rather sick. But there was no time to worry about this now, because once Aziraphale was seemingly securely tied to the tree, the strange demon immediately turned back to Crowley and attacked him before he’d even managed to fully scramble to his feet.

The next moment, both demons were fighting, Crowley apparently just as desperately as Aziraphale had fought before. But it seemed, he stood his ground a little longer, using claws and fangs to his advantage just as much as his wings. The other demon wasn’t to be trifled with and managed to bite Crowley in the shoulder, but the Serpent of Eden squirmed like…well, like a serpent. He hissed and managed to beat the other demon over the head with his right wing, almost sending him toppling over. But the moment of triumph was short-lived. The other demon was atop him once again the very next moment and pinned him down in a very similar way to what he’d done with Aziraphale. Now, however, he firmly held both of Crowley’s hands in one of his own claws and tried to choke him with the other. Of course, this certainly wouldn’t kill Crowley, but it definitely wasn’t a good position he found himself in. Once again, he tried to use his wings, but the result of that was that his adversary let go of his throat and instead grabbed a full hand of feathers and began to tear at them.

In the meantime, Aziraphale – just as he had planned – was putting some of his (admittedly mediocre) magic performance tricks to good use. He’d learned a thing or two about escapology along that way, and so, he’d inconspicuously positioned his hands in such a way that, with some wiggling, he managed to get one of his hands free of the ropes. Now, it would only take a little miracle to free himself. A moment later, the angel was indeed free. Just as he was getting rid of the rope, he heard Crowley scream. Aziraphale looked up and saw flurries of black feathers floating through the air – soft downs as well as larger tertiaries, secondaries and even primaries. No time to lose now.

Aziraphale winced, but, ignoring the throbbing in his own wing, he pushed himself up until he was standing on his feet, albeit slightly swaying, trying his best to hold his wing up in a way that it wouldn’t brush against the ground or anything else even if he were to bend down. He shoved a hand into one of the inside pockets of his coat, his fingers wrapping around the item he’d remembered he carried in there. “Crowley! Fight him off! You have to fight him off!” He wasn’t sure whether his friend could actually hear him at all – and anyway, what else was Crowley trying to do? Of course he was doing his best to fight his attacker off. However, Crowley’s struggles didn’t seem to be any more successful than Aziraphale’s had been. And the strange demon was still plucking his feathers. But for what Aziraphale intended to do, the angel needed as much distance between that demon and his – likewise demonic – friend as was possible.

By now, the angel was standing right behind the strange demon who had his back to him and his attention fully focused on his current victim. “Crowley, push him off! Now!” Maybe it was the urgency and despair in Aziraphale’s voice that made Crowley focus on the angel for a moment and mobilise what was apparently his last bit of strength. With an angry scream, he actually did manage to break free to some extent: He tore his wing free from the other demon’s grip, thrashed with both wings – sending a few splatters of blood and a few more feathers flying through the air – managed to free his hands from the iron grip they were still in, and succeeded in pushing his attacker away with wings and hands, if only slightly. The other demon immediately lunged at him again, but he never made it. Instead, he began to scream horribly and…to dissolve into nothing. Gasping, serpentine eyes fully yellow and wide with panic, Crowley scrambled backwards hastily before he stared up at Aziraphale in utter shock.

The angel stared back at him, blue-green eyes just as wide as the demon’s, his face pale, his hand still holding the now empty small bottle, shaking visibly. Crowley’s eyes darted from Aziraphale’s face to the empty bottle to the puddle of dirty goo that was left of his attacker and back to Aziraphale’s face. “Y-you…wh-…y-you have Holy Water with you???”, he finally managed after a few incomprehensible noises, his voice quite a bit too high. Aziraphale exhaled audibly and dropped the bottle. “C-Crowley…? I…y-yes…I did.” “Huh...”, Crowley slightly shook his head. “You…have Holy Water with you…and…you don’t bother to tell me???” “I…I’m sorry…”, Aziraphale seemed quite miserable, “I…I just took it along after our encounter with Heaven…Thought it could come in handy…and…it did, didn’t it? I…I sort of forgot that I had it with me…I’m sorry, I should have told you…” But while the angel was explaining, Crowley seemed to calm down a bit. After all, he’d seen demons getting destroyed like this before – Hell, he’d done that himself to Ligur! “’kay…fine..’ss alright, Angel…Sssorry…you…jussst had me ssstartled quite a bit…” He sighed, swallowed and finally scrambled up to his feet.

Standing, Crowley took a few deep breaths before he continued: “Where…where did you…?” But he didn’t have to finish the question – Aziraphale answered it anyway: “Well…when I…organised the Holy Water for you back then…there was some left…and…I kept that…So…”, he swallowed, trying to fight the increasing pain from his wing, before he continued through gritted teeth, “so…if we’d need any more of it now…I’m all out of Holy Water…We’d…need to acquire some new…and…I don’t think I can go to Heaven for that…I guess…a church would have to suffice…or…I’d have to make it myself…” The angel’s speech was interrupted a few times by obvious signs of him being in pain. “Leftovers…”, Crowley nodded, “Well…I guess Holy Water from an earthly source will still work just as well…Might not be as powerful as…the holiest…but still…” It would certainly do the trick all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'll be able to post another chapter this week, but I guess it should be there Tuesday at the latest...I'm still roughly ten chapters ahead, so that's fine.  
> Well...Poor Aziraphale! He'll have to get his wing healed somehow now...Though Crowley isn't left in the best shape either...At least, there was a nicer bit right in the beginning of the chapter - maybe that makes up for the rest of it...The next chapter will provide a few answers to the identity of the demon who was after our two ineffable idiots.


	8. Of Broken Wings and Plucked Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: fixing a wing is a somewhat painful business.
> 
> The last chapter left a few problems and questions unanswered: After being attacked by another demon, both Aziraphale and Crowley are somewhat battered, the angel arguably in more trouble, since he finds himself with a broken wing. To his surprise, Crowley does not only seem to know how to help him with that, but he can also provide some information on the identity of who actually attacked them.

Despite his own increasing discomfort, Aziraphale found that he was relieved that Crowley seemed more like himself again…well, that was, except for his ravaged wings. There were several feathers missing and blood dripped over the mangled rest of them. “Crowley…are…are you alright? Your…your wings…” The demon just sighed. “’s alright, Angel…”, he muttered and, with an almost careless gesture he made the bleeding stop, hissing in discomfort and wincing slightly as he did so. “It’ll grow back…in time…Nothing too bad…But…Aziraphale…”, Crowley tried to catch a better look at the angel’s own wings now, snake-eyes widening, “What about…you…your own wing…?”

The angel glanced back down at his wing as Crowley mentioned it and nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m afraid it’s broken…It…it just hurts more and more…” He sounded as if he was about to start crying because of the pain. The demon just nodded grimly. “Yeah, looks like it…’s prob'ly the adrenaline and shock wearing off…Makes it hurt more now…You…should get this fixed as soon as possible…Must hurt like…well…like Hell, I s’ppose…” Aziraphale looked back at his friend, his eyes swimming with tears. He huffed slightly and it sounded bitter. “Well, same as with the Holy Water, I can’t just go up to Heaven and ask one of the healers up there to help me and fix it…and I cannot fix it myself…so…” He shook his head sadly. The realisation hit him right now with some force: He’d be forced to endure this agony…and even if it healed, he would probably never be able to fly again if the broken bones weren’t mended. For a moment, Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what was worse: the actual pain or the despair welling up in his soul.

But Crowley shook his head. “Nah, you most definitely cannot go to Heaven for that…but…you don’t have to. I…ngh…If…if you…uh…I…can do that, if you…if you’d let me…” He seemed unusually meek, but Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide at that. “You… _you_ know how to…mend a broken wing?” Crowley’s reply consisted of a shrug and a nod. Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to think. “Crowley…that’s…a _wing_ we’re talking about. That’s different from healing a broken arm or something. Different from fixing something in a corporation. Wings are –” “Parts of our essence, our selves, our very beings, I know, I know.” Crowley sounded slightly exasperated and rolled his eyes at this. But Aziraphale was in too much pain to comment on that. “You…really know how to do this?”, he asked, still a little uncertain. But the demon nodded. “Yes, I do…but…because, as you rightfully said, wings are a bit more complicated than a broken bone in a corporation or in a human or something…well…gotta tell ya right now, it’s gonna hurt, Angel. Won’t be pleasant. But…yes, I know what I’m doing, I can fix your wing. And it should better be done sooner rather than later. Will only get more difficult, the longer we wait…”

Aziraphale swallowed and considered for a moment, but then he nodded. “Okay…If…if you say you know how to do this, then…well…I trust you.” Crowley gave him a short nod back at this. “’kay. Good. Well…uhm…guess you’d best sit down…and lean back a little…” With that, he somewhat hesitantly took the angel by the arm and helped him to sit down on the little cliff, feet dangling over it. Aziraphale flinched and whimpered when his wing touched the ground as he sat down. Crowley walked around him to inspect the wing more closely. “Could you, uh…try to stretch it out a bit?”, he asked, but the very moment Aziraphale as much as tried to do so, he cried out in pain. “N-no…no I can’t…”, he whimpered, somewhat superfluously.

Crowley just nodded and sighed. He’d expected that. “Okay…so…then I’ll have to do that…So…here’s how this’ll go: I’ll have to straighten it out and…well…realign the bones. That…will be the worst bit. Will hurt like a bitch, but you’ll have to keep still. Then I’ll fuse the broken bones back together, along with all the tendons and ligaments and muscles and all that, and it should be fine. Just…don’t move this wing, Angel, you hear me? Keep it still. I know you’ll try your best. Because…well…if you move it, the bones might just fuse together in a crooked way and…well, we both know what that means…You probably won’t be able to fly, at least not properly. And…I highly doubt you’d fancy having it broken again to reset it…” Aziraphale paled at the thought – he shuddered and just shook his head.

“Okay…Ready?”, Crowley asked, waiting for the angel to nod in affirmation. But then he added in an afterthought, while he was already moving to start his task: “Oh and…please try not to hit me with your other wing or something…” “Course not”, Aziraphale managed, but he wasn’t quite sure what his reflexes would do if pain got the better of him. Well, he could only try his best. Of course, he’d never intentionally hurt Crowley, especially not if he was trying to help him. “Right…”, Crowley muttered, as much to himself as to Aziraphale, but then he added: “Stay like that, Angel, lean back, rest on your hands…good…Gonna start working now…” Aziraphale felt a bit awkward, sitting in this way. Normally, slouching like this was more Crowley’s kind of thing to do. But if he wanted to stretch his wing out on the ground as flat as possible, sitting straight-backed wouldn’t do. His entire wing was hurting by now and despite the fact that Crowley touched it nowhere near the broken part to gently lift it up in order to stretch it out on the ground, Aziraphale could hardly bite down a cry of pain.

Crowley tried his best to ignore the angel’s reaction – that wasn’t helping right now, he couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not if he wanted to help his friend. He worked his way downwards along the wing, down to the broken part, until it was all stretched out and resting on the ground. “Good…you’re doing great, Angel…Now comes the bad part…I’ll try to be quick…”, he explained, then took a deep breath and took a firmer grip on the wing to correct the awkward angle of the broken part. This time, Aziraphale couldn’t bite down the scream. In reflex, he tried to pull away, but Crowley didn’t let go. “Ngk, damnit, Angel, hold sssstill! For fuck’ss sssake!” He hissed and then grunted in irritation when the angel’s other wing, thrashing automatically, hit him over the head. But he kept a firm hold on the left wing, until the only movement was the slight quivering of the wing in his hands.

Aziraphale was panting, fighting hard to remain still, tears streaming down his face. “Alright, almosst there…You can do thiss, Angel…” With that, Crowley attempted some further correction, this time managing to align the bones quite perfectly. He pressed down on the trembling wing, ignoring the angel’s cry of pain and his sobs as well as whatever his other wing was doing. Instead, he tried to calm Aziraphale down as best he could: “’kay, worssst isss over, ‘ngel…It’ss alright…Relax…You did great, Aziraphale…Jussst need to…fuse them back together now…” Aziraphale whimpered, but nodded. Apparently, the pain had ebbed down a bit again. Crowley let out a sigh and finally dared to take his hands off the wing, certain that the angel would keep still now. He concentrated, drawing on the necessary energy and quietly invoking the right spells. His fingers moved over the broken bones, light as butterflies, and Aziraphale let out a startled gasp when first the bones and then everything else fused back together and healed.

“Better?”, Crowley asked and the angel could almost hear his smile. “Y-yes…rather…I…In fact…much, much better…You…you really did it! You healed it!” Aziraphale sat back up, carefully moving his wing a little bit. Crowley smirked. “Told ya I would. Lemme just…double-check, to make sure there’s nothing else amiss?” “Okay”, Aziraphale nodded. Then he felt his friend’s nimble fingers running gently through his feathers, along the bones, joints and muscles, and he shivered slightly, trying to fight back a sigh. “Right, seems all fine”, Crowley finally stated. There was a strange edge to his voice that Aziraphale couldn’t quite place, but when Crowley finally came around to sit down next to him, he just looked his usual cool self, quirked eyebrow, smirk and all. Aziraphale seemed slightly flustered. “Thank you, my dear”, he said with a soft smile. But the demon just shook his head. “Ngk…nah, ’s alright, don’t thank me, Angel.” “Sorry for…well…I guess I hit you…?” Crowley actually chuckled at that. “Well…as I keep saying, you are a bit of a bastard.” But then he added more seriously: “No, really, it’s fine. Perfectly understandable.” Aziraphale nodded, and for a moment, they sat in companionable silence.

“I…didn’t know if demons and angels could really heal each other…”, Aziraphale mused after a while, “I mean…we are of the same original stock…but…” Crowley just shrugged. “Well, I don’t see why it shouldn’t work. After all, we’ve both done blessings as well as temptations, too. The Arrangement, remember? We were perfectly capable of doing each other’s work. And as you said, same original stock. Sure, we…are quite different now, but it’s…more like two sides of the same coin. As you’ve seen, I _could_ heal your wing just fine. Just…takes a bit more effort, healing an angel as a demon…and vice versa, I suppose…” The angel glanced over at him. “So it _was_ more difficult?” “Well…required a bit more energy, but…’s fine, Aziraphale, no worries…”

Aziraphale nodded, but looking at Crowley had once again reminded him of the state of the demon’s own wings. “Crowley…erm…what about your own wings? I mean…I know you said it’s not that big of a deal, but…I know you, I know that you always keep them in tip-top condition…Can’t…? I mean, I know one isn’t supposed to do that, but…Why…don’t you heal them, too? Can’t you?” Crowley shot him a short glance, then looked into the distance and sighed. “No, I can’t. It’s…quite impossible to do that myself, physically…” “Maybe…I could help?”, Aziraphale ventured, tentatively. This caused the demon to look at him again, frowning. “Do you know how?” The angel blushed. “Well…no…but…I could try and see if I can find out?” Crowley chuckled softly at this. “Well…sure, why not…”, he replied with a lopsided smile.

There was another moment of silence, before Aziraphale spoke again. “That…that demon…Did you know who that was? I’ve never…felt anything like that…I mean…his whole aura…” He shook his head in confusion. But Crowley just nodded grimly. “Yeah, I knew him…Well, I didn’t… _know_ know him…Not personally, I mean…and I’m glad I never had any reason to meet him…But…I knew _of_ him. Blessed wanker, plucking me like a Christmas goose. I dare say he deserved what was coming for him”, he grumbled. For a moment, Crowley was silent, but Aziraphale knew him well enough to just wait for him to continue eventually. “Well, Angel, let’s just say, you’ve just disposed of one of Hell’s most feared assassins.” Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “ _Assassin?_ So…Hell is…trying to _murder_ you? Us?”

But the demon just shrugged. “I doubt they’ll try anything again any time soon. After all, they are convinced we’re immune to both Holy Water and Hellfire…I guess this was some sort of a final attempt to get rid of me…As for you…I…I don’t think he would have killed you…That would have just restarted the War, a demon killing an angel just like that…” “But…Crowley, they _want_ to restart the War. Both sides do.” Crowley gave him a strange smile, eyebrows raised. “Well, yes, they do…but I doubt Hell would want to be seen as the undisputable aggressor. My guess is that he would have taken you up to Heaven as a…well, a gift of sorts…Token of good will…’s probably why they acted now, after we escaped from Heaven…Perfect timing…” The angel shuddered. This sort of unscrupulousness sounded very much like something Hell would do…but he knew by now that Heaven wouldn’t have any qualms about taking advantage of that, either.

“You…think they won’t try anything again?”, Aziraphale asked, not really convinced. “Well”, Crowley answered, “I don’t think I can just call up good ol’ Beelzebub and ask…but as I said, you just obliterated one of Hell’s most feared assassins. They’ll prob’ly be scared for quite a while, believing us to be quite untouchable.” He smirked at Aziraphale.

“Well, I do hope you’re right, my dear…But…there’s one thing I don’t quite understand: We are two, why did he come alone? I mean…surely, it would have been easier if there had been more than just one coming after us…?” But Crowley shook his head. “Well, Angel, he always works… _worked_ alone…You noticed how he could shield and hide his aura? Also with what he did to my car? Hrmpf, for that alone he deserved to be doused in Holy Water! Touching my Bentley! The audacity! But…well…yeah…as I said…he’s the only one I know of who could do this. It’s the whole point. The way he’s working. Surprise attack. You’ll never know where he’s coming from. That is, if you sense him at all. Most are dead before they know what hit them. So…bringing someone else along would sort of…ruin his entire modus operandi…” “Oh…I see…Sounds logical…”, the angel replied with a nod, “but…well, as for your car…It seems, if he was following us anyway, you could have just fixed it with a miracle, after all…” Crowley shrugged. “Well, you can never know…Seems he kept an eye on us anyway and…went for my Bentley, just in case he’d lose track of us. Waiting for his opportunity. What a complete and utter bastard. Wanker. I really…” He didn’t finish the sentence and instead ended it with a growl. For a moment, they sat in silence.

“How’s your wing now?”, Crowley asked. “Oh, much better, thank you…A bit sore, but…well, it’s perfectly fine.” Aziraphale gave his friend a bright smile that was answered with another lopsided grin. “Good…The sore feeling should go away soon…Just best take it easy with flying for a day or two…Well, if you were to fly, I wouldn’t be able to come along anyway for quite a while…”, he added with a glance back at his own mangled wings, grumbling. “I’m so sorry, Crowley…I’m sure they’ll grow back just fine…” “Yeah, sure they will…Will just take time…and I’m not sure that I’m looking forward to moulting, either…” Aziraphale sighed in sympathy and, somewhat hesitantly, reached out and patted Crowley’s arm. The demon glanced down at the hand on his arm, then back at the angel. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure”, Aziraphale reassured him with a smile.

Crowley wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to react. He felt a bit awkward and knew that he couldn’t trust his voice right now. Unwilling to think any longer about any missing feathers, he put his wings away, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the angel was doing the same. “Oh…by the way, Aziraphale…When have you last taken care of your wings? Looked like they could use some preening and grooming…If…if you don’t mind me asking…” The angel blushed. “Oh…uhm…I…er…Well, we’re not supposed to be vain…” He fidgeted quite a bit and Crowley quirked and eyebrow at this. “Vain? That’s nothing to do with vanity, Angel, it’s just basics of taking care of yourself, keeping your wings in…how did you phrase it? Tip-top condition?” “Well…I…But…it’s…rather time-consuming and…and there are so many other things to do…” “Like what? Reading yet another book?” Aziraphale looked at him with the expression of a child caught with one hand in the candy jar. Crowley huffed. “You know there’s such a thing as audiobooks now, Aziraphale. You could…listen to a book while you take care of your wings. I always listen to music, it’s quite relaxing.” Aziraphale sighed. “Well…somehow, I’m not a big fan of audiobooks…” The demon groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I…guess I’m really not that…patient with myself…It…always feels tedious”, Aziraphale admitted somewhat sheepishly, “and…well, you always take such excellent care of yours, they…they always look…well…quite perfect…Beautiful…” “Ngk…”, was all Crowley managed to reply, blushing quite a bit. Since he’d lost his sunglasses when he’d been pushed over the edge of the cliff they were currently sitting on, he just miracled up a new pair and put them on, grateful for this shield of protection. Right now, there was really nothing about his wings that could even remotely be called ‘beautiful’ or ‘perfect’. They both knew that.

After a moment of silence, Crowley finally found his voice again, but he preferred to not talk about his own wings right now. “Tell you what, Angel: If you like…I could groom and preen your wings…and…you can read in the meantime…if you like…” Aziraphale looked totally surprised. “You…you would do that? Oh…I…well…if…if _you_ like…sure, why not…” Crowley smirked. “Hey, no problem, Aziraphale…What d’ya think? Shall we…head back now?” The angel nodded and smiled, so they both got up and began to make their way back in the direction they’d come from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of split the chapter into the last one and this one, because adding it to the last one would have resulted in a rather long chapter. Well, anyway, here we go! I hope to keep up the schedule and publish at least once a week...And yes, in the book it was mentioned that demons usually take better care of their wings than angels, and as for Aziraphale, having too many books to read seemed like the perfect excuse...


	9. The Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their encounter with a rather murderous demon, Crowley and Aziraphale return to where they'd left the Bentley - only to find the AA service car arriving just then. After getting the Bentley back to its former glory, they start their journey back home. Soon enough, however, they're right in the middle of a heated argument concerning the angel's plans of making a call Upstairs...

When they finally returned to the spot where they’d left the Bentley, they noticed the AA-service car pulling up. “Shit, I’d forgotten ‘bout that…”, Crowley muttered. Aziraphale just managed an “Oh…”, before he brightened up and tried to see the positive side of it all. “Well, maybe they can fix it…” Crowley just groaned – he seemed exhausted. A middle-aged brown-haired man jumped out of the service car, walked around the Bentley with obvious interest and then caught sight of the two individuals coming down the dirt road towards him. “Ah, hello? You the owners of this car? You called? Sorry I’m a bit late, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long…” Crowley waved his hand. “Hi…yeah, that’s my car, I called you…and no, it’s fine…We just…took a walk…” “Nice area here”, Aziraphale chimed in. The service man smiled politely: “Well, I’m not exactly from around here, but from what I’ve seen, yes, it’s certainly nice. So…about your car…To be perfectly honest, I…I don’t know if I can be of much help…I don’t think I’ve ever even seen such an old vintage car in such good condition. Not outside a museum, that is. What’s wrong with it? Looks like you’ve…lost oil, at any rate? It looks very well-kept, apart from that…I…assume you usually take care of this beauty yourself?” Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Uh…well…yeah…it’s…been my car since new-…in the family since it was new…There’s never really been any issue…”

The service man nodded. “Okay…Mind if I take a look? As I said, I can’t promise anything – even if I find out what’s wrong, it might be difficult getting the spare parts…” Crowley seemed a bit hesitant, but then he nodded. “’kay, fine, have a look. ‘s what I called you for, after all”, he said, gesturing for the service man to go ahead, but Aziraphale felt a wave of magic. The angel cast a glance at the demon who, in turn, looked back at him with an ironic smirk and a quirked eyebrow. “Hmmmm…”, the man muttered, obviously baffled. “Would you…mind trying to start the engine? Right now, I can’t see anything amiss…no oil or anything visible in here…” Grinning to himself, Crowley hopped in the car and did what the service man had asked him to do – and the engine started with its familiar rumble. The man kept looking, checking here and there, but he finally just shook his head, walked around to the driver’s side and told Crowley that he could turn it off again. “Well, sir, I…I’m afraid I cannot find anything amiss with this old beauty. Sometimes, old cars do weird things…If…you want to, we can try and contact an expert and get it checked thoroughly, to see if there’s anything amiss with it, see where the oil was leaking from, but right now, off my hand…” He shrugged. “All I can offer right now is towing you…”

Crowley huffed. “Well, I don’t think that will be necessary. As you said, old cars do weird things…and she seems to be running just fine now…Seems it was just a little hiccup. Sorry for causing all this trouble, making you come out here…” “Well, there _is_ oil underneath the car, so…”, the service man started, but when he bent down to point it out, there was no oil anywhere to be seen. “Huh…I could have sworn…”, he mumbled, scratching his head in confusion. Crowley just grinned. “Well, who knows…Maybe she just overheated a bit…It’s a warm day, after all…” The service man nodded, still looking baffled, too baffled to comment on the fact that it wasn’t that hot. The demon paid him a generous sum for his troubles and sent him off with a friendly smile and a few ‘thank yous’. Aziraphale had stayed back, watching the whole thing.

“Did you just magically fix your car?”, the angel asked the still grinning demon. “Well…yeah, obviously. After all, the reason why we couldn’t use a miracle literally doesn’t exist anymore…” Aziraphale couldn’t help a slight giggle. “You had that poor man thoroughly confused…” Crowley laughed at that. “Ha! Indeed I did…Well…not quite done with fixing it yet, though…Gimme another moment, Angel…’s not just fixing whatever was the matter here, I also have to…well…undo what has been done to her…Get her back to the way she was, ya, know…” Aziraphale nodded and waited patiently. This was indeed something Crowley had to do on his own – after all, he knew his car best. He walked around the Bentley, uttering a few soft invocations here and there, gesturing to this and that. A few moments later, the demon seemed happy with himself and the Bentley. He grinned, hands in his pockets – or rather, as far in those pockets as he could manage to squeeze them in – looking proudly at his beloved car.

“Crowley, dear, you…you said you’d wanted my help for warding your flat and everything against demons…What do you think, would you like me to…do this with your car, too? Like, right now?” Crowley looked surprised, but only for a moment. “Excellent idea, Angel! Well, if you’d be so kind…go ahead…” Crowley gestured invitingly towards the car and Aziraphale got to work, glad that there was at least some way he could pay Crowley back for healing his wing. The demon stood behind him and watched with interest in a very similar way to how Aziraphale had watched Crowley ward the bookshop. And, indeed, what Aziraphale did with the Bentley was very similar to what Crowley had done with the bookshop. “Now I know what you meant, Angel…Prob’ly would have done this very much the same way myself…but hey, better use some angelic miracle to ward off demons…Thanks for giving a little special extra to the radio and car telephone…”

Aziraphale just smiled. “Well, you’re welcome, my dear. I…guess you should still be able to make calls to…Downstairs if you wanted to…but now _they_ won’t be able to reach _you_ anymore. So…shall we get back home?” Crowley nodded. “Well, get in then, Angel…” With that, he opened the passenger’s side door for the angel and got in on the driver’s side himself. He switched on the radio as soon as he re-started the engine, and it began to play _‘I’m in Love with My Car’_ instantly. “Yes, that’s my girl! This is more like it! Welcome back!”, Crowley purred, grinning and gently stroking the steering wheel, and Aziraphale knew that he was in for a very fast ride home. He was already clutching the edge of his seat in apprehension.

“You can’t be serious, Aziraphale! You really want to contact Heaven? After everything that happened? That’s insane!” “Well, ‘insane’ more applies to your way of driving! This is far more likely to get us killed right now than me making a simple call – and we’ve just narrowly escaped that fate, so woul- _Watch the road!_ For Heaven’s sake!” Crowley just hissed and rolled his eyes, swerving to avoid a collision. By now, they were back in the city, driving along the busy streets of central London.

Their current discussion had started because Aziraphale had mentioned that he still felt that he needed to make a call Upstairs about their recent abduction. Crowley was thoroughly against it, especially after their encounter with Hell earlier that day. The angel was still convinced, though, perhaps even more so after what had just happened. He wanted clarity, at least from one side. If Crowley felt he couldn’t contact Hell, fine, but Aziraphale had made up his mind when it came to contacting Heaven. Having an argument with the driver, however, wasn’t exactly a good idea, especially if that driver was a certain demon with a penchant for reckless driving.

For a moment, neither said anything. Finally, Aziraphale tried to explain his point a little more calmly: “Look. I…I understand you don’t want to contact Hell…” “I don’t want to contact Hell? Aziraphale, it’s not that I’m scared of contacting – oh, _move_ it, you bloody idiot! – contacting Hell, it’s just…Right now, they’re probably convinced that we’re quite invincible. If I called them up and asked, they’d get suspicious. They’d – argh, not another blessed lorry now – they’d see this as insecurity…Fear…Which it is. And I most certainly _don’t_ want them to come to the conclusion that we’re not as indestructible as they currently think we are.”

Aziraphale nodded. This was actually understandable. But his point was about Upstairs, not Downstairs. “Okay, fine. I said I understand that.” “Well, but apparently you didn’t”, Crowley objected, “You made it sound as if I was afraid to contact Hell, which simply isn’t the case. _Not_ contacting them is simply the better option!” He hooted at a scooter while talking. Aziraphale still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that, despite all his – admittedly sound – reasoning, Crowley _was_ afraid. At least somewhat…and he certainly had enough reason to be so. Both of them had reason to be afraid of their former employers. And Aziraphale most definitely was terrified. And yet.

The angel sighed in exasperation. “Would you please try to not get us discorporated? Alright, fine, I apologise, I might have phrased things a bit…unwisely. But…well. As far as Hell is concerned, I get your point. But as for Heaven, well…forgive me, but there was something fishy about that whole thing. I just want to try and contact a higher authority and double-check what they actually wanted from us. See, they cannot try us for stopping the Apocalypse – they’ve already done that. They cannot do it again. So…something’s wrong there…I just want to know who’s behind this and why…and what it is that they want.” Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Well, what they want? Us gone, probably. – _Oi!_ Stay in your lane, for fuck’s sake! – And who d’ya wanna contact, anyway? God? Never works! You know that, Angel! Not talking to anyone, the Almighty!” Aziraphale shrugged. “Well, last time I tried I got a hold of the Metatron. Wasn’t exactly helpful, but still…” Crowley just scoffed and sneered: “ _‘The Metatron’_ , he says. And after that, you managed to get yourself disss- – _get off the road, you moron!_ ”

Aziraphale felt hurt. He crossed his arms and stared out of the window. Crowley truly was in a nasty mood if he was mocking him like this. “Well…maybe one of the archangels will suffice…”, he muttered, more to himself than to Crowley, even though he certainly wasn’t looking forward to a chat with Gabriel or Michael. “The archangels? Seriously?” Aziraphale turned to face Crowley once again. “Well…maybe they don’t know about this…and if that’s the case, they can…” But Crowley interrupted him with a bitter laugh. “You really think that? Angel, don’t be naïve! ‘m telling you right now, that wanker Gabriel most definitely had a hand in this – he knows about it at least. Wouldn’t be surprised if we were arrested on his orders.”

Crowley regretted his words as soon as he’d said them. Aziraphale looked at him questioningly, frowning and squinting his eyes. “What…what do you mean? How…can you be sure of that? We didn’t run into anyone up there that I recognised, let alone…” He shook his head, still frowning. Crowley kept his eyes on the road, frowning. “Ngk…Forget it”, he muttered. How was he supposed to tell Aziraphale that he’d actually recognised the angel who’d been guarding them as one of Gabriel’s old acquaintances? And, after all, he could be mistaken, right? Six thousand years were a long time – a lot could have changed. Crowley just shook his head and Aziraphale knew better than to try and dig any deeper right now. For a while, _‘The Best of Queen’_ was all that could be heard in the car.

“Crowley, watch out!”, Aziraphale shouted suddenly, reaching out with a miracle in reflex to make the car stop in time. Crowley reacted in the same moment, slamming on the brakes, gasping and sending out a little miracle of his own with the same intention as the angel’s. The tyres screeched but the Bentley stopped just in time, mere inches from the bumper of the car in front of them. “Fuck”, was the first thing the demon managed to say, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “That was close”, the angel muttered, turning to look at Crowley who was still staring straight ahead in obvious shock. The car in front of them had stopped so suddenly – and Crowley had been driving so fast – that without some miraculous intervention they definitely would have ended up in a collision.

The angel took a few deep breaths to calm himself, but then he noticed that Crowley still seemed to be frozen. “Crowley…? Are you…okay…?” “Huh…?” The demon turned his head to look at him for a moment. Finally, he managed to unclench his hands from the steering wheel, ignoring the fact that they were shaking. “Ngh…y-yeah…? I…I’m fine…J-jussst…a bit tired…S-sssorry…Didn’t…didn’t mean…” He shook his head slightly. Aziraphale reached over and put a hand on his thigh – which, under normal circumstances, would have been highly distracting for Crowley, but right now he was in shock and had already enough trouble following the angel’s words. The touch didn’t even seem to register.

Aziraphale tried to reassure him: “It’s alright, just breathe, it’s fine…We’re okay, nothing’s happened. It’s…very understandable if you’re tired…You _must_ be exhausted after all you’ve done today…” “’s never happened before…” Somehow, Crowley sounded very small right now. “It’s okay…Maybe…Let’s just…stop somewhere for a bite to eat and…maybe go to your place? Then I could…well, ward your flat and all and…you could get some rest…? Sleep a bit …?” The demon just nodded. He took a deep breath and, since traffic was moving once more, he slightly stepped on the gas pedal, way more gently than usual. They stopped at a little Italian restaurant for some take-away pizza and finally pulled up at Crowley’s Mayfair flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a terribly busy week...and will remain so, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post another chapter before next week...We'll see - I promise, I'll keep working on it and updating on a regular basis.  
> Admittedly, the title was inspired by Supertramp, but that's not really of any importance...  
> The statement that "old cars sometimes do weird things" actually comes from my own life - my car was acting up and a friend of my dad's said those very words...and they were so true...And...well, I might as well admit that, while I certainly don't drive like Crowley, I tend to yell and swear a lot (unless I'm singing along to the radio) XD And yes, I've also once had a shock moment of my own with my old car (for other reasons, however). Looking at it now, it seems I've used a lot of my own experiences for inspiration in this chapter...


	10. In the Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale make it back to Crowley's flat, where the angel makes good on his promise to ward the place against other demons. Meanwhile, in Hell, Hastur isn't too happy about the way things turned out...and he's prepared to take matters into his own hands...

By the time Crowley opened the door for himself and the angel, he was stumbling. Aziraphale felt pretty exhausted himself, but he still tried his best to keep a hold on the pizza boxes as well as the demon beside him. Crowley slumped on the sofa rather unceremoniously, leaned back, closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Aziraphale placed the two boxes of pizza on the coffee table and then turned to Crowley: “Erm…anything to drink?” “Ah, well, you’ve been here before, help yourself to whatever you like…” Crowley took off his sunglasses and gestured with them towards the kitchen. “No, I…actually, I meant if _you_ wanted anything? And I do insist that you eat, too.” Yellow snake-eyes stared back at him. “Fine…”, Crowley finally grunted with a shrug.

Fighting the heaviness in his own limbs, Aziraphale went to get two glasses and some wine and then sat down right beside his friend for a companionable meal. The sofa actually felt a lot more comfortable than it looked, even if it didn’t really compare to the one in the bookshop. More style than comfort, like everything in Crowley’s flat, as it seemed. Crowley gave him a tired smile as he poured the wine and handed the demon a glass. “Well…cheers, then…and…let’s see if this pizza is any good…”, the angel said. Crowley just shrugged, emptied half the glass in one go and turned his attention to the pizza. It was actually quite good and…he did feel hungry. Aziraphale smiled when he saw that the demon was indeed digging in. He took another bite of his own pizza, washing it down with a sip of wine, rather enjoying himself. After this, he’d feel revitalised enough to ward Crowley’s flat against any demons.

The wine and pizza indeed had the intended effect on Aziraphale: With his stomach pleasantly full, he felt rather revived and had already got up to dispose of the empty pizza boxes. Crowley, on the other hand, was sprawled on the sofa as soon as Aziraphale had got up, now and then reaching lazily for the wine glass. Returning to the sofa, the angel therefore found that, unless he wanted to sit down _on_ Crowley, there wasn’t really any space left for him to sit. He tutted slightly and shook his head with a fond smile. _Serpent indeed_ , he thought. “Well, my dear boy, I made a promise, didn’t I?” Crowley looked up questioningly, so Aziraphale elaborated: “Well…I said I’d ward your flat against other demons?” “Oh…right…so ya did…” Crowley took another sip of wine. He definitely looked tired. Aziraphale smiled at him. “Well…if you like…you, erm…you could also go to sleep and I’ll…take care of it all and get back home and we’ll catch up later…? You do look tired…”

The demon nodded, but he seemed to need a moment to fully comprehend what the angel was saying. “Hmm…nnng…yeah, sure…Sleep sounds good…’n’ you can…Oh, you wanna leave? You…could also stay, ya know? No problem…” “Oh, I know, my dear fellow…but…there are some things I need to do in the bookshop, too…So…just take your time to rest and…well, I’ll best get to work, to make sure you’re safe here…and then we’ll catch up as soon as you like.” This time, Crowley nodded with more certainty. “Actually sounds good…You…you know what you’re doin’? Sure you don’t need any help? Don’t mind me just…well, calling it a day and…?” But the angel gave him a warm smile: “Get some rest, Crowley, you’ve well deserved it. Let me take care of this…Oh…just…maybe one thing: Anything like radios and tv and the like that I should give some extra attention?”

Crowley nodded and staggered to his feet with a grunt, waving for the angel to follow him. He showed him around the flat – this time specifically pointing out all the items of more or less modern technology that could be used by Hell to try and make contact. After that, the demon excused himself and vanished into the bedroom, after a final “Sure you’ll be alright, Angel?” and a reassuring answer from Aziraphale. “Sleep well, dear…and dream of whatever you like best”, the angel muttered as the bedroom door closed.

Then, with a sigh, he went to work. He rubbed his hands together and began walking around the flat, warding the door, the windows, the very walls and ceiling and everything in it before he focused his attention specifically on the tv, the stereo, the telephone and the old ansaphone, the mobile phone Crowley had left on the coffee table…He worked in a very similar way to what Crowley had done in the bookshop, similar words, similar gestures, a similar brief, quickly fading glow on everything he gestured at. _Fire and water – two sides of the same coin_. _There is something true about that notion_ , he thought. Aziraphale had felt quite refreshed after the meal, but now, after using a rather extensive amount of his angelic energies, he once more felt rather exhausted. Exhausted, but pleased with himself. He was certain that he’d taken care of everything – Crowley would be safe here. Both of them would be safe here, just as safe as in the bookshop.

With a sigh that was equal amount satisfaction and weariness, the angel looked around himself and then decided to check in on his demonic friend. If Crowley was still awake, he could let him know that he’d finished the task, and if the demon was asleep…well, it wouldn’t hurt to check if he was okay, right? As quietly as he could, Aziraphale opened the bedroom door and peeked inside. The bed was unmade but…empty. The angel frowned, confused. _What…?_ , he thought, not really daring to follow that thought. “Crowley…?”, he asked softly, peering a bit further into the room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. And then he had to suppress a chuckle, snorting slightly and putting his hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Crowley was, in fact, sound asleep – just not in his bed: He was sleeping on the wall instead, the very image of a large demonic spider. _Or a gecko, maybe_ , the angel mused. Aziraphale had no idea how Crowley had ended up there or how he managed to actually stay that way. _Wily old serpent_ , he thought fondly, shaking his head and smiling as he closed the door.

Aziraphale returned home rather late that day. It had been a long day anyway and despite the fact that he and Crowley had had some pizza, the angel had begun to feel somewhat peckish on his way back to the bookshop. He’d stopped at a little café for an evening snack before he continued his way home. Back at the bookshop, he’d sat down for a while, enjoying a break and some quiet time with a nice mug of hot cocoa. He thought back to all the things that had happened that day – and the stuff that had happened the days before. Having both Heaven and Hell possibly chasing them and possibly keen on disposing of them really wasn’t a comforting, reassuring feeling. Originally, Aziraphale had intended to make a call Upstairs as soon as he was home, but his own weariness and Crowley’s reaction to this suggestion caused him to postpone that call for now. Instead, his mind drifted from the issue with Heaven to their encounter with Hell’s assassin and their close brush with eternal obliteration. He shuddered. That had been a close one, indeed. Too close for Aziraphale’s liking. The very memory made his wing tremble.

The ghostly memory of pain in his wing made him remember what else had happened: Crowley had healed him. Aziraphale was still astounded that the demon knew how to do that. Fixing a broken arm just like he himself had done with the young lady with the book and the velocipede ( _‘bicycle’_ , he corrected himself mentally) when they’d had that accident with her and she had her wrist broken and her bicycle completely bent by the collision with Crowley’s Bentley…well, fixing something like that wasn’t too difficult. A little miracle and voila! Everything was fine. But an angel’s wing? That required not only quite a bit of energy, but also a rather extensive amount of knowledge in healing. _And I couldn’t even pay him back by fixing what that demon has done to his wings_ , he thought somewhat miserably. But…he had said to Crowley that he’d try and see if he could find out how to do that, hadn’t he? Aziraphale nodded to himself. Glad to have found something to occupy his mind with and to use as a reason to postpone his call Upstairs, he got up. There were some books – rather special books that he kept hidden where no customer would accidentally stumble across them – that might just provide some answers to this.

* * *

Down in Hell, Hastur was in a foul mood. That was, he was generally in a foul mood, even fouler since Ligur had been…well, _murdered_ by that flash bastard, Crowley. Hastur was a demon, a proper demon, a Duke of Hell even. He’d worked his way up with honest evilness. Proper demonic work. Tempting humans, yes, but also bullying other demons. And the occasional torture, bloodshed or murder for good measure. Shared interests in these things had made him and Ligur grow close. Something like…well…friends. Not that demons had friends. Friends were for losers who were stupid enough to trust someone…well, to trust _anyone_ else, really. So, no, Ligur and him hadn’t been ‘friends’, definitely not, no. But…they’d been whatever the hellish equivalent to ‘friends’ was. And they’d shared information, too. Hastur, for instance, knew that Ligur was in more or less frequent contact with that wank-wings, Michael. He had no idea how this contact had come into existence in the first place, but it had been a dangerous game. Of course, the information had been invaluable. But…ultimately, it had led to Ligur’s utter destruction. After all, it had been Michael’s suggestion to check up on the Snake.

Hastur was still fuming. What had that blessed Serpent ever done to deserve to be held in such high regard? Who did he think he was, anyway? Sure, his reports were always in order and full of wiles and deeds – but anything truly substantial? Anything like a good old-fashioned bloodbath? Nothing of that in the recent years. Instead…pulling down phone networks. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Gluing coins to the ground. Nonsense like that. Simple low-grade mischief. The last big thing he’d pulled off was the M25, and even that was…odd, in Hastur’s mind. And then the whole disaster with the failed Armageddon. The utter betrayal. _And_ the murder of Ligur on top of that. And yet, Serpent that he was, Mr Slick had squirmed out of it all.

So, when word had gone around that Heaven had tried to make a move and get rid of the two traitors, Hastur had been…delighted. Sure, they’d escaped from Heaven – one couldn’t expect anything better from those white-winged fuckers up there. But it had given Hell a long-desired opportunity. If Heaven also still wanted those two gone, then nobody could blame Hell for trying again. In fact, the fact that Upstairs had actually arrested a demon would normally have been seen as an affront. But in the meeting Beelzebub had quickly called in, they had explained that this little misstep would be generously overlooked – for now, at least. After all, that said demon _was_ a traitor. Same as that angel he’d been consorting with.

Beelzebub had announced that Hell would now pick up where Heaven had failed. And Hastur had rejoiced! He didn’t care too much about that angel, but _Crowley?_ Crowley…no, ‘Crawly’, Hastur still preferred to call him. Crawling on the floor was what he deserved. And…he also deserved whatever suffering he’d get. After all, Hastur had been the first to point out that they shouldn’t let Crawly go, failed Holy-Water-execution or no. The Serpent was a danger – letting him roam free was…stupid. Even if Hastur would never dare to say that to Beelzebub’s face. And Beelzebub had had a point back then: Of course, they couldn’t risk a riot. But…things could be handled differently. Unofficially. Discreetly even, if needs be.

After the meeting concerning Upstairs and Hell’s answer to that, Hastur had made inquiries to find out what the actual plan was – and it had been good. So good. Sending an assassin? Perfect! Sending that angel back up to Heaven as a little present? Well, why not? Main thing was to get rid of that insufferable Snake. He’d been elated. But…then the blow had come: That attempt, too, had failed now. Their assassin, one of their best ones, had turned up…liquidated. Literally. By Holy Water. Permanently gone. It seemed, the very stuff Crawly couldn’t be destroyed with had become his weapon of choice – which, in itself, felt like utter betrayal.

Just after the failed assassination, there had been another meeting. A smaller one, only Beelzebub, Dagon, Hastur and a few others of the higher ranks. Not the ordinary demons – they didn’t have to know about this, it was bad for the morale, after all. “So what’s the plan now? How do we dispose of Crawly?”, Hastur had asked. But Beelzebub had just shaken they head. “We don’t. We will not mezzz with zzzomeone who izz immune to Holy Water and Hellfire _and_ hazzz juzzt managed to dezzztroy one of our bezzzt hitmen. Too dangerouzzz. Not worth the effort”, they’d buzzed.

Hastur had tried to object, only to be silenced under threat of harsh punishment. He’d swallowed his anger – and almost his tongue along with it – and had stomped off after the meeting. If Hell wasn’t going to do anything further, he’d have to take matters into his own hands. He wasn’t quite sure how, not yet, but he’d find something. Crawly couldn’t be killed? Well, Hastur was a demon, so he knew that there were worse things than death. He didn’t insist on the Serpent being killed, though he certainly wouldn’t object to seeing him die. As painfully as possible. His main agenda now, however, was that he wanted Crawly to _suffer_. Simple and easy. The flash bastard should suffer just as Hastur did. And if Hastur would have to face the consequences for making sure that the Serpent got what he deserved, well, that was a price the Duke of Hell would pay gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are a bit stressful right now, so I do hope that I can manage to keep up...Until now, I still have enough chapters ready...


	11. Of Dinners, Storms, Stars, and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley invites Aziraphale over for dinner and since a thunderstorm causes a blackout in the meantime, the tow of them end up stargazing. Which, in turn, makes the angel wonder about Crowley's past...

Aziraphale had spent the rest of the night researching, until, to his surprise, he’d nodded off. He awoke the next day, slumped against a bookshelf, with a rumbling belly and a slight crick in the neck from sleeping in that awkward position. It made him wonder how Crowley had managed to sleep on the sofa in the most impossible positions over the years…but then he remembered that the last time he’d seen Crowley, the demon had been sleeping on a _wall_. Aziraphale got up, rubbing his neck, stretched a bit and decided to make himself some breakfast. After breakfast, he found that he needed some air, so he went for a walk. On his return, he opened the bookshop, hoping that no customers would come his way, and sat down on his desk to read, this time purely for recreation.

It was a day after this that Aziraphale began to think about his best friend again. It wasn’t exactly unusual for Crowley to sort of ‘vanish’ for a few days – the angel was quite used to the demon’s occasionally rather erratic behaviour. But in the face of the most recent events, he couldn’t help but worry. Had something happened? Had he made some mistake warding Crowley’s flat, maybe accidentally locking the demon inside with no chance to get out or even contact him? Or…was Crowley simply taking a nap to restore his energies? Around noon, Aziraphale decided to call him and make sure he was okay. The telephone beeped a few times and the angel was beginning to fear that it would go to that infernal ansaphone of his, but then, instead, he was greeted by a very eloquent “Ngk?”

“Crowley? Hello, dear, how are you?” “Hnng…’ziraphale…tha’ you?” Aziraphale huffed. “Well, of course it’s me! Who else did you think…? Wait, have I just woken you up?” “Mmmm…kinda…so…whassup?” Aziraphale didn’t miss the very audible yawn following this and he chuckled softly. “Well, my dear, I was…just wondering if you’re alright. Sorry for waking you…It’s past noon and…well…” “Whadayissit?” “Erm…excuse me…What day? You mean…you’ve been sleeping since…since I left your flat?” “Hmmm…y-yeah…?” “Oh! Well…in that case, you’ve slept through two nights and a whole day in between…and…half of this day, too…” There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. “Crowley? Are you still there? I was wondering if…well, I do hope I did everything right and you can still leave and enter your flat without a problem…But since you can answer your phone, I guess the rest should be fine too…” “Wan’ me to check?”, Crowley asked, slowly sounding more awake. “Oh, that would be jolly good, my dear! When I didn’t hear from you, I was a tad worried…” He heard Crowley moving around and then heard him almost shouting his answer from some distance away. “Nah, nonsense, Angel, you did just fine. ‘s all good. Perfectly capable of leaving my place and coming back in. Thanks again for that, by the way…”

With that, Crowley was back on the phone. Aziraphale smiled. “Well, it was the least I could do. So, erm…since you’re awake…Any plans for today?” Crowley seemed to ponder the question for a while. “Hmm…tell ya what: What about…I…uhm…ngh…invite you f-for dinner? Just come over to my place?” “Dinner?” That was…unexpected, Aziraphale thought. “Yeah…I mean…last time, with that pizza, we were both a bit tired and all…We can do better than that, Angel, right?” Aziraphale was rather stunned, but he most certainly wouldn’t say no to an invitation to dinner. “Well, that…that’s jolly good, then…I’ll come over to your place, then?”

And so, the very same evening, the angel found himself standing once again in front of Crowley’s door, wondering what the demon had in mind. Had he found another new little restaurant he wanted to show him? It wouldn’t be the first time. Aziraphale rang the doorbell, only for Crowley to open the door a moment later, without sunglasses, eyebrows raised and shaking his head. “Why in Go-, Sa-, Someone’s name are ya ringing the bell? ‘m not expecting anyone else, Angel, just simply come in!” Aziraphale blushed ever so slightly, but he followed the demon inside anyway. “So…what did you have in mind, where should we…? Oh…?”, he sniffed, surprised, “This…smells awfully good…” It was only now that he noticed Crowley staring back at him, looking utterly awkward and insecure. “I…um…I…ngk…” The demon didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands or where to look, blushing, but then he turned on his heels, hurrying into the direction of the kitchen. Aziraphale followed, realisation beginning to dawn on him.

“You… _you_ cooked dinner?”, the angel asked, slowly following his friend into the kitchen. “Well…I…um…y-yeah…?” Crowley shuffled, obviously glad that busying himself with the pots on the cooker gave him something to do. “You made breakfast, so…I made dinner…” Aziraphale smiled. “Oh, that’s so nice-…that’s really lovely…So…what’s for dinner, then?” Crowley chose to ignore the ‘nice’ bit. “Pasta. Pizza kinda inspired me, so…yeah…” “Sounds marvellous, dear!” Aziraphale beamed at him reassuringly.

A few moments later, both were seated at the table with two plates of pasta and two glasses of wine. Crowley seemed rather nervous, so Aziraphale gave him another encouraging smile and took a first mouthful of pasta. His eyebrows shot up. It was only now that he noticed that Crowley still hadn’t started eating. The demon was staring at him nervously. “Crowley, this is…” “Too hot?” “No…no…I mean, it _is_ rather spicy, but it’s actually quite good. I like it! And…well…you are a demon, it’s…only fitting if whatever you cook has a bit of fire to it…” Crowley didn’t look convinced. “Look…you can be honest…We can…go out and get something else…” “Nonsense, Crowley! I am honest – I like it. I wouldn’t lie to you!” Finally, the demon nodded. “’kay…that…that’s fine, then…Glad it’s edible…”, he added, finally beginning to eat something himself.

Once Crowley was sufficiently convinced that the angel was actually enjoying the pasta (and he absolutely was), the mood got a lot lighter. Soon enough, both were happily chatting about old times, neither of them being in the mood to address the most recent events. Outside, they could see the occasional flash of lightning and soon enough they heard the distant rumble of thunder. A storm was coming in and the first rain began to patter against the windows. What a pleasant evening to spend indoors with a good friend! Once the plates were empty, Crowley simply made them vanish and clean themselves – he’d find them in the cupboard later, all clean and shiny, simply because he expected them to. The wine glasses remained, and after a while, Crowley got up. “What d’ya say, Angel? Shall I…Well, I’ll just go and see what other nice bottles I’ve stowed away…For special occasions…” Aziraphale raised his brows. “Special occasions?” “Well…we’ve successfully escaped Heaven _and_ Hell… _again_. Guess that’s…enough reason to celebrate, don’t ya think?” The angel huffed slightly, but gave him another of those fond smiles. “Well, if you put it like this, my dear, you’re certainly right.” “’kay…then…gimme a moment…Just make yourself at home…” With that, the demon sauntered out of the room.

Aziraphale waited for a moment, but then he found that he didn’t want to remain seated. He got up and walked over to the window. The rain from earlier had turned into a torrent pouring down from the skies over central London. It reminded the angel of the very first rain, that day so long ago, on a wall, high above a garden. _The_ Garden. He wondered if Crowley was thinking of that too, right now, or if the demon was too preoccupied with choosing the right bottles of wine. The thunderstorm was still raging outside, lightning flashing every few moments and thunder considerably louder than before. For a while, Aziraphale just watched the spectacle outside and he had the distinct suspicion that Crowley might just be doing the same, too entranced by it to return.

The angel finally turned away from the window and began to walk around for a bit. He’d been here before, sure – by now, after taking his time to ward Crowley’s flat against demons, he knew the place rather well. Still, as his eyes fell onto the sketch of the Mona Lisa on the wall, the lectern that looked…suspiciously like the one from the church back in 1941, or that…rather dubious statue of an angel and a demon doing…whatever, Aziraphale once more realised that there were quite a lot of things he’d wanted to ask his friend about. That was, he truly _wanted_ to, but he wasn’t sure that he ever would. And even if he dared to ask, he wasn’t at all certain that he’d get any answers. This also reminded him of the plants…those beautiful, stunningly verdant plants…and the utterly terrified vibes he got from them. Another thing he kept wondering about. Another thing he might never find the courage to ask Crowley about.

The torrential downpour outside seemed to have lessened quite considerably by now, the rumbling of thunder slowly receding. It seemed, the thunderstorm was moving on to someplace else, when…

There was a particularly loud thunder and then everything went dark. Not just in the flat. Suddenly, the night seemed considerably darker than before. Aziraphale gasped, startled by the loud crash of thunder and the sudden darkness, but he quickly collected himself and hurried back over to the window. A good part of the city was plunged into darkness. The angel frowned and decided that he’d better go look for Crowley.

He found the demon soon enough, sitting on the window sill and looking out of the open window, one leg dangling out, the other propped up on the window sill, bottle of wine beside him, a few others placed on the floor beneath the window. “Crowley?” The demon actually flinched and turned around startled and wide-eyed, his yellow snake-eyes softly glowing in the dark. “Oh…sorry…Kept you waiting, didn’t I? Sorry, was just such a spectacle outside, couldn’t really tear myself away…” He’d turned around once again, looking outside. Aziraphale walked over to join the demon at the window. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…You were gone for quite a while and…Did…did _you_ do that?” Crowley looked up at him questioningly, but the angel’s gesture towards the darkened city was enough. “That? The blackout?”, he laughed, “Nah, Angel, I’m a demon, but I don’t do _that!_ Just lightning strike, I reckon. Gotta blame the thunderstorm, not me. ‘s nice, though, don’t you think?”

Aziraphale hummed and, after short consideration, motioned to sit down beside Crowley on the window sill. The demon scooted a bit to the left side and grabbed the wine bottle to make room for the angel to sit. For a while, they just sat in the window, looking out into the night. The rain had stopped and, after having achieved its last bit of mischief, the thunderstorm had finally moved on, the clouds drawing fantastical patterns in the sky. Low rumbling of thunder and an occasional glowing in the clouds were all that was still left of it…Well, that and the blackout. Crowley miracled the cork out of the wine bottle and took a swig before passing it on to Aziraphale. “Quite a bit like the first one, eh?”, he asked. The angel chuckled. “That was exactly what I was thinking too. We didn’t have any wine back then, though.” Crowley grinned at that before looking back out. The silence stretched for a bit, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They shared the bottle of wine and watched the clouds slowly recede along with the thunderstorm, finally revealing the stars in the indigo night sky.

After a while, Crowley looked up, a strange, faraway look in his eyes. “’s rare to see them like this, these days…”, he muttered, more to himself than to Aziraphale. “The stars? Yes…I guess the city lights are too bright for that, normally…Makes it harder to see them properly…” “Mmm…’s called ‘light pollution’, actually…” Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I’ve read about that. There are places where people actually travel to, specifically, to have a good view of the night sky…because there’s less of this light pollution there…” Crowley nodded, thoughtfully. “Maybe I should like to travel to such a place, sometime…’s been a long time…I…almost forgot…” “Forgot?” “What they look like, so clearly, without all that interference from all those city lights…” Aziraphale smiled: “Oh…Yes, I see what you mean. They are so beautiful. It’s a shame – even a full moon can make the sky too bright to see them properly, but in these modern times, we don’t even need the moon to interfere. Humans do that all by themselves and constantly, with all the lights shining down here on Earth…”

Crowley was silent for a moment, simply staring up into the sky. The angel even had to give him a gentle nudge with the bottle for him to take it back and take another swig. He seemed…lost in thought and Aziraphale wondered what his friend was thinking about just now. “Penny for your thoughts?”, he finally asked. “Hmm? Oh…”, Crowley turned his gaze back to his friend sitting beside him, processing what Aziraphale had just asked, then smiling briefly and softly shaking his head. “Just…old memories”, he answered, his voice low.

Aziraphale waited, cocking his head slightly. Finally, Crowley decided to elaborate, looking back up at the stars above them: “I…ngh…I…actually made some of them…Helped create some stuff up there…” He felt the angel’s eyes on him but couldn’t bring himself to return the gaze. “Oh…you really did? You…you mentioned something like that once…I…can’t really recall…Was it Greece? Rome?” Now Crowley did look at him. “I did?”, he asked, sounding rather confused. Aziraphale felt the heat creep up his face. “Well…you were rather drunk…” “Oh…” The demon just nodded, frowning, and then looked back up again. Both angel and demon felt somewhat awkward, grateful for the current darkness hiding their blush.

“So…it’s really true?”, Aziraphale asked after a moment, “You…created stars?” Crowley nodded again. “You…were one of the star makers, then?” Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped. They had never really talked properly about Crowley’s...well, his past as an angel. Before his Fall. They both knew it existed, of course, but Aziraphale hadn’t known Crowley back then. He only knew him as the demon he was. And whatever came before that seemed to be a topic Crowley didn’t want to or couldn’t touch upon. _But this time, he’s started talking about that all on his own, hasn’t he?_ , the angel mused. Maybe this time, Aziraphale would actually finally get to know about a part of his friend he still knew next to nothing about. But Crowley just shrugged and gave him a half-nod as a reply, no longer looking up into the sky, but down at his feet dangling from the window sill. _Who were you back then, before you Fell?_

The angel didn’t dare to ask the question out loud. After six thousand years, he knew Crowley well enough to know that the demon would just clam up completely in that case. He could already feel the shift in his friend’s demeanour. So, instead, he opted for a slight modification of the topic: “So…erm…do you…do you remember which stars you made? Or helped with?” Crowley smiled to himself, looking oddly melancholic.

It would never cease to amaze the angel: Yes, if he tried hard enough and really wanted to, the demon could be unreadable, but by nature, Crowley had in fact a very expressive face. One just needed to actually look at him. “Course I do”, he replied, looking back up at the sky, just watching the stars for a moment, before he leaned a bit closer towards the angel and began pointing. “See up there? Ursa Major? I helped with that one…Didn’t create all of the stars, but some…and quite some in Orion, too, by the way…Pretty proud of how his belt turned out…and I also made Betelgeuse and Rigel. And…over there, see that? Cassiopeia? Created the whole lot myself…Looks like a W, right?” Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “Yes, I know…That one is easy to spot…Peculiar shape…” Crowley chuckled, obviously amused by this. Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Why that shape, Crowley? Was that actually your own idea?” The demon shrugged, still grinning. “Thought it funny…Just a W, lil zigzag pattern, really…A lil joke…I…also created a few other stars up there…Vega and Altair…and…well…Alpha Centauri…and others…”, he added softly.

Aziraphale looked at him, stunned. “Alpha Centauri? Wasn’t that…where you wanted to…to run away to?” The demon sighed, giving him another shrug and another one of those half-nods. “You actually made that one?” “Two, actually.” Aziraphale frowned: “Two?” Crowley sighed. “It’s a double star system, Angel…or…well…actually, there’s Proxima Centauri, too, so…technically, there are three”, he explained, “And…yes…that’s the one I had in mind…Quite nice, in fact…Still…nicer on Earth, though, so…Glad the world didn’t end and all that…” With that, he took another swig of the bottle before handing it to Aziraphale. The angel drank some himself before he nodded in agreement. “Yes, me too. But…Maybe you could…show it to me, some time? Now that we don’t actually _have_ to run away and hide? At least…I hope we don’t…” But Crowley actually smiled at him, laughing softly. “Sure, Angel, why not? And…yes, ‘m pretty sure we can get things sorted here on Earth. No wine on Alpha Centauri, so…” Aziraphale joined in his laughter and offered him the bottle again, agreeing whole-heartedly.

After this, their talk turned to lighter topics again, but they remained where they were, sitting on the window sill, already sitting rather close together since the moment Crowley had inched closer to point the stars out for Aziraphale. They continued drinking, the bottle staying miraculously full. The city lights came back on, and even without them, the stars would have begun to fade: The sky slowly turned a lighter shade of blue-grey, the first signs of the dawn of the new day. And still, a demon and an angel were sitting in a window in Mayfair, chattering away about a whole variety of topics – after all, they had six millennia to choose from.

Now and again, their chatter ebbed down into phases of companionable silence, and it was in one of those moments that Aziraphale suddenly realised that they were actually leaning against each other – and that his own head was just about to sink down sideways against Crowley who was pretty much slumped against his shoulder by now. Normally, Aziraphale would have sobered up a bit at that, but now? The angel actually gave in, allowing himself to rest his cheek against the crown of his best friend’s head, closing his eyes for a bit. When he opened them again, he noticed the first rosy traces of the new sunrise, slowly painting the sky in red, pink, golden and purple. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”, Aziraphale muttered. “Hmm?”, Crowley raised his head to look at him, blinking.

The angel smiled, pointing out the sunrise. This earned him a smile and an agreeing nod from Crowley. “Yeah…always like the first time, innit, Angel?” “Yes…rather…”, Aziraphale agreed, but he cast a stolen glance back at Crowley…and then couldn’t quite stop looking. The way the light of the rising sun caught in the demon’s hair…It seemed to be aflame. And…his serpentine eyes, sometimes appearing almost as yellow as sulphur, depending on the light, were like molten gold now. Crowley seemed to notice the angel’s glance, though, and looked back at him. Aziraphale hoped and prayed that he wasn’t blushing…and that if he was, it wouldn’t be visible in the rosy morning light. He gave Crowley a short smile and then looked back at the flaming sky.

At first, Crowley frowned. Had…Aziraphale been staring at him just now? But actually looking at the angel beside him quickly made him forget the reason he had turned to look at him in the first place. If at all possible, the gentle morning sun seemed to soften the angel’s features even more, the smile on his face absolutely endearing. It made Crowley’s heart flutter quite a bit. _Treacherous thing!_ But if there had ever been an angel wearing an actual halo, it was Aziraphale right now. Those soft white-blonde curls framing his head like tufts of candyfloss gave the perfect impression of a halo, at any rate. Crowley tore his eyes away with some effort, looking back at the rising sun. _Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t_ say _anything stupid. Best sober up_ , he told himself. He noticed that Aziraphale beside him did the same. This was rather ironic, in a way, because neither of them had been particularly drunk. Crowley smiled. Well, it could become quite a nice day, judging by the sky this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...just a bit of...awkward fluff, I suppose? It's my personal belief that, while Aziraphale might be good at baking and certainly loves a good meal, he's not that much of a cook. Crowley, on the other hand, might not be that much into eating (though he does eat, certainly), but he knows a thing or two about cooking and is actually quite good at it (even if he feels somewhat insecure about it, especially when it comes to a certain angel).  
> As for the stars, I've always loved them and still remember the times when my granddad would show me all the constellations up there and tell me all the mythological tales around them. And yes, I always thought Cassiopeia has a funny shape - if anyone came up with that, I'm sure it must have been Crowley. Who else would put a zigzag-W-line into the night sky? I'm pretty sure, though, that his past as an angel is a topic Crowley really, really doesn't like to talk about...


	12. Feathers, Softly Floating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their nightly stargazing, the demon and the angel go out for breakfast and then return to the bookshop - with some rather demonic driving to get them there. They end up spending the day indoors, with Crowley finally taking care of Aziraphale's wings...and the angel might just enjoy this way more than he expected...

The angel and the demon had gone out for breakfast that morning. There was this charming little French bistro that Aziraphale had discovered a short while ago and it seemed to be the perfect morning to finally give it a try. The food had been delicious – Aziraphale was going as far as to actually call it ‘divine’, and, in addition to what had been on his own plate, he’d snatched quite a bit from Crowley’s plate as well. As usual, the demon had let him, merely commenting on it with a soft chuckle and a shake of his head. Both had been in a good mood, relieved that both their homes were little safe havens now where neither Heaven nor Hell could touch them. Furthermore, Crowley also felt immense relief to have his beloved car back the way it was supposed to be.

Stargazing and watching the sunrise together had definitely had a calming effect on both the demon and the angel, and at least for this morning, Aziraphale chose to ignore the fact that there were still a lot of unanswered questions, especially concerning Heaven. He’d been happy enough to simply enjoy a lovely breakfast in the company of his…well, his best friend, he’d pondered.

That had been mere moments ago. Right now, however, the angel was clinging to whatever he could grab onto – his seat, the car door, the dashboard…Crowley, on the other hand, was obviously having an awfully good time, speeding through the city like…well, like a demon. They were on their way from the little French bistro to the bookshop, and while, on the way _to_ the bistro, Crowley had been driving comparatively reasonably, he seemed to be completely back to his old self now.

“Crowley! That traffic light was red!” “’s called ‘cherry green’, Angel”, the demon retorted with a grin. He turned up the volume and began to softly sing along. “ _Don’t stop me now, I’m havin’ such a good_ – oh, for fuck’s sake, move your arse, it’s _green!_ ” Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, if that traffic light we passed just now was ‘cherry green’, maybe this one is ‘lime red’.” This earned him an almost shocked gasp from Crowley. “You, betraying me like that, Aziraphale?” But when the angel cast him a glance, Crowley was smirking and shaking his head slightly before turning his attention back to the road. He continued to hum and sing along after a moment, soon enough interrupting himself again: “ _That’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit, I’m travelling at the speed of liiight_ – ugh, wish I could! _Idiot!_ What about indicating? Those funny, yellow little lights aren’t just for decoration, you clown!” “Crowley”, Aziraphale admonished him gently. But as Crowley was speeding up again, the angel once more grabbed onto whatever he could reach for safety.

“Crowley! That was a stop sign!” “And I did slow down, didn’t I?” “You’re not supposed to just slow down, it’s called a _stop_ sign for a reason, you wily serpent!” “’s called a ‘rolling stop’, Angel.” “That’s not…!” Crowley huffed. “You’re quite obnoxious as a passenger, ya know? Nobody actually stops at a stop sign! Well…except…ugh, anyway…’s no fun…” Aziraphale shook his head. “Well, I for one would like to stay alive and in one piece if you don’t mind…” “And I have it all under control! Perfectly fine! Relax, Angel…” The fact that Crowley had taken his hands off the steering wheel to gesticulate and had taken his eyes off the road to look at him didn’t exactly help Aziraphale to relax. He felt somewhat relieved when the demon turned his attention back to the road.

There was a huge puddle coming into view on the road ahead of them. Normally, it would probably only have been on the curb, but after the heavy rain the night before it extended across almost half of the road. There were a few pedestrians on the pavement, too. Instead of mindfully slowing down, Crowley sped up, a rather wicked grin on his face. The Bentley went straight through the puddle, splashing some of the startled pedestrians. “Crowley! That was…really uncalled for! Positively –” “Wily? Evil?”, Crowley suggested, chuckling. “Oh, come on, Angel, let me have some fun! I’m a demon after all!” “Indeed you are”, the angel muttered. He was glad when they finally arrived and he could stagger out of the car, feeling strangely torn: On the one hand, Crowley’s driving style was…well, demonic…but on the other, this was the Crowley he knew. The demon was definitely back to his old self, same as the car, and he did seem to be in a very good mood today – at ease, relaxed and obviously quite enjoying himself. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile and shake his head good-humouredly, as he watched his friend saunter towards the door of the bookshop, no longer thinking about the wild ride that had brought them here.

“So…any plans for today, Angel?”, Crowley asked, slouching on the sofa as usual. Aziraphale shook his head, smiling. Was there no way this demon could just sit normally for once? “Not really, no…”, he replied, “Why? Do you have any suggestions?” Crowley grinned. “Well, we could always just raid your stash of wine and whisky, get completely sloshed in here and discuss the absolutely existential questions of existence, the basis of every foundation.” Aziraphale began to laugh so hard at this that he had to close his eyes. He heard Crowley chuckle and he wasn’t quite sure if it was because of what Crowley had said or because of the angel’s reaction to it. Finally calming down a bit, Aziraphale had to wipe some tears from his eyes. “Oh dear”, he muttered.

Then, pondering for a bit, he said: “Well, we could always go to the park and feed the ducks…” Crowley quirked an eyebrow and merely pointed his thumb towards the nearest window. While the morning had been rather lovely, by now, it had started to rain again and the rain was pattering against the glass. “You wanna go out in that?”, the demon asked. “Oh…well…you’re right, it looks rather like a rainy day…”, Aziraphale admitted with a glance towards the windows, “More like a day to…stay in…” “Hmmm…So that means we have a whole day’s worth of time now, right? Well…I…uh…I did promise you something, didn’t I?” Aziraphale frowned, slightly shaking his head in question. Crowley sighed and got up. He stalked around the room for a bit, running his finger over one of the book shelves. “Could do with a bit of dusting, too, but still in way better condition than your wings, Angel…” The angel gasped. Now he remembered. And blushed. He still felt rather embarrassed, especially since Crowley was very obviously right – while the bookshelves might be a tad dusty, he generally looked after them rather well. His wings, however, usually out of view…well.

Crowley had turned around to face him, looking at him expectantly. “So? Guess we hardly have anything else to do…Seems like the perfect time for this…” “You…you’d really…want to do that? I mean…it’s my own…negligence…You really don’t have to…” “Nonsense, Angel. Stop fussing. Just…get comfy on the floor and…well…grab a book, I guess…”

Aziraphale swallowed. Why was this so embarrassing and awkward? Surely, there was nothing about this at all. He even remembered other angels preening each other’s wings back in Heaven…so long ago…Nothing odd about it. He sighed, shrugging off the strange feeling, and went to choose a book to read. Book in hand, he simply sat down on the floor in the middle of the main room, materialised his wings and stretched them out. This, at least, always felt good – stretching them. He’d used them so rarely, these last few centuries. They yearned to be used, to carry him through the air, high above the clouds…It would be rather wonderful. Maybe it was about time to just go out and fly again some time soon. Preferably in the company of a certain demon…

A moment later, he sensed Crowley sitting down behind him. His left wing twitched ever so slightly at the first touch of fingers on feathers. “Relax, Angel…Wing’s healed alright?” “Y-yes…of course…Completely tickety-boo…Erm…thank you for that, once again…” Crowley sighed. “Don’t mention it”, he muttered, as he began to run his fingers through the pearly, though somewhat dusty and unkempt white plumage.

Aziraphale tried to read but found soon that he couldn’t concentrate on the pages in front of him. Instead, he closed his eyes and fought hard to bite back a whimper, but couldn’t quite stifle the somewhat shuddering sigh. This was…unexpected…or was it? After all, he knew how sensitive wings were. And yet. Those long, slender fingers brushing nimbly through his feathers, disentangling them, smoothing them, gently plucking all the loose ones out…It felt like a caress. In fact, it felt almost sinful. _Is that why demons mostly have such well-groomed wings? Because it’s…so pleasurable?_ , the angel pondered for a moment. Or was it because it was Crowley doing it? Would it feel just as good if Aziraphale took care of his wings himself? He couldn’t remember that it ever had, but then, it had been quite a while since he’d bothered paying any proper attention to his wings in that respect at all.

“You alright there, Angel?” Aziraphale blinked a few times. He needed a moment to actually process the question. “What? Oh…y-yes, of course…Tickety-boo…” He tried a little laugh, a bit too high, glad that Crowley couldn’t see his flushed face right now. “’kay…good…You really haven’t done this for ages, eh? Lots of loose feathers…Might take some time…” The angel only managed to nod. Crowley cocked his head. Well, if there was one thing they had plenty of today, it was time. He just hoped the angel wouldn’t get bored. But then, there were probably enough books for him to read in the meantime and…well, who knew, maybe he even enjoyed this a bit. At least, Crowley hoped so. Still, he felt it was rather awkwardly silent in the bookshop. He couldn’t even hear the angel turn any pages in the book he had in front of him.

“Uhm…Aziraphale…? Mind if I put on some music?” “Oh…music? Well, yes, sure, why not? Whatever you like…” Aziraphale heard the demon snap his fingers and the old gramophone began to play. Music might actually come in handy right now. It was awfully silent and he couldn’t trust his own voice. Not with Crowley’s fingers in his wings, doing… _that_. And if the demon usually listened to music while grooming his own wings, well, it seemed only appropriate to have some music playing now.

The angel wasn’t aware of having ever owned anything by Queen, but as it seemed, now he did, simply because Crowley expected it. At least, the gramophone didn’t seem to have that – at times – rather embarrassing half-sentient ability of the Bentley to play songs exactly fitting the mood and emotions. This here was a purely random collection of _‘Best of Queen’_ songs. It didn’t take long for Crowley to start singing along. Softly at first, humming in between, but soon enough, he seemed to be in a flow of sorts, deftly preening and grooming the wings under his fingers while letting the music fill his mind.

Aziraphale smiled to himself, eyes closed. He didn’t even bother pretending to read anymore, the book in front of him long forgotten. Quite a few soft and light white down feathers were floating through the bookshop by now. Now and then, a soft, pleasant shiver ran through his wings, and he was relieved that the music was loud enough so that any sigh or soft moan he couldn’t quite suppress wouldn’t be audible anyway. Instead, he let his attention shift to Crowley’s singing along – with obvious joy, but also often enough slightly off-key. It made Aziraphale smile even more brightly. _How endearing_ , he thought.

Initially, the angel had been sure that this collection of songs was random, but when he heard Crowley sing along to _‘The Great Pretender’_ and actually stopped to listen to the lyrics for a change, he began to wonder. _‘I’m the great pretender, pretend that I’m doing well. My need is such, I pretend too much, I’m lonely but no one can tell…adrift in a world of my own. I play the game, but to my real shame, you’ve left me to dream all alone…Too real is this feeling of make-belief, too real when I feel what my heart can’t conceal…Oh yes, I’m the great pretender, just laughing and gay like a clown. I seem to be what I’m not, you’ll see’…_ Oh dear…Crowley didn’t seem to notice – or did he?, but Aziraphale reflected on it for a while. Somehow, at least partly, this could probably fit both of them rather well, having played this game of dancing around each other for centuries, millennia even. Pretending to be enemies, smiling in the faces of their respective employers just as much as at each other, hiding the truth, even from each other, even from themselves. The angel shook his head. No, there really was no point thinking about such nonsense now, was there?

When _‘Bohemian Rhapsody’_ came on and Crowley hummed and sang along to the whole thing, instrumental parts included, Aziraphale began to chuckle. This was definitely off-key now, but the angel found that it was hardly Crowley’s fault. Whoever was capable of singing this whole thing and actually nailing it? Crowley didn’t notice the angel’s amusement, or if he did, he chose to ignore it, while Aziraphale was grinning brightly. If he’d have any say in this, Crowley could sing more often.

“Right…guess that’s it for now. All bright and shiny.” With that, Crowley ran his fingers over Aziraphale’s wings one final time, now all smooth, soft and silky. Hours had passed and Crowley had accumulated a considerable pile of old feathers, dust and the like from the angel’s wings. Somewhat hesitantly, Aziraphale folded his wings and slowly got up. He turned and looked at the dirt and old feathers that had come off his wings, then at Crowley who was standing in front of him, and then he looked back at his wings. When he laid eyes on them, he let out a small gasp. They were…even whiter than usual. And not just white. They were positively shimmering. A soft, mother-of-pearl, opalescent sparkle. “Oh…oh, good Lord…Crowley…I…”, he searched for words, “they are…Oh, thank you…I don’t know when they’d last looked like…” But Crowley waved it off with a strangely shy grin and shook his head. “Nah, don’t mention it, Angel. Was about time they got some proper care. And next time it won’t take that long. Won’t let you neglect them like that again. They look the way they’re supposed to look now.” Aziraphale smiled. “Yes…I suppose…They…looked that way back then, when…well…when everything was new…Thank you, still. Now, I guess, they look just as well-kept as yours…”

The words had hardly left his mouth when he saw Crowley’s smile waver. “Well…not really true, though…Right now, yours def'nitely look way better than mine…” Aziraphale put his hand over his mouth, but it was too late – he’d already done the damage, already said the words. How could he have forgotten? “Oh…oh no, Crowley, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking…Listen, I could…” But the demon just shook his head and waved it off. “Ah, nah, no problem. ‘s fine. Just give it a while, they’ll be as good as new and then…well…Never mind.” The angel opened his mouth once again, but Crowley just insisted that, no, really, it was fine.

With a sigh, Aziraphale put his wings away and used a tiny miracle to dispose of the pile of feathers, dirt and all that which Crowley had groomed out of them. He felt sorry for the demon, knowing how much care he took of his own wings, how well-groomed and impeccable they always looked. Normally, the angel always marvelled at the iridescent, silky, raven-black feathers, usually with a bit of a bad conscience because he wasn’t quite sure if it was appropriate for an angel to admire the wings of a demon. Thanks to Crowley reminding him of the current, deplorable state of his wings, he had just remembered that he’d found out how to maybe help him fix them, but it seemed that Crowley didn’t want to talk about that right now. Well, the angel would try to keep it in mind and start another attempt some other time, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Crowley is a demon, so yes, he isn't always "nice" and certainly not to everybody. Splashing pedestrians is, in my opinion, definitely in his repertoire of low-grade evil and mischief. As for the rest, well, a bit of proper wing-grooming was overdue. I don't think Crowley actually expected Aziraphale to find out how to fix his wings, so if the angel had just insisted and continued talking, well, who knows? Apart from that, well, I couldn't resist putting one of my personal favourite Queen songs in here - 'Don't Stop Me Now'...and the bit with the "cherry-green traffic lights" is actually a hint to something we joke about in my family...(Not that we ignore traffic lights, mind you!)  
> I'm not quite sure if I can continue to update twice a week - I might go back to a weekly schedule, because, honestly, right now I'm busy as hell. No rest for the wicked - I'm in dire need of holidays...So, please bear with me, I'll definitely continue writing and I'm still quite a bit ahead with what I've written already...


	13. A Heavenly Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first: WARNING:  
> In this chapter, Aziraphale has a talk with Gabriel, and Gabriel is NOT nice to him. He is very mean, bullies and verbally abuses Aziraphale, makes him feel bad for who he is and what he looks like, basically body-shaming him and feeding into any insecurity he might feel. He's also rather direct with sexual references and basically insinuates that, if anything, Crowley is just using the angel (which of course isn't true, same as all the other stuff Gabriel says, but it leaves Aziraphale quite broken). If you're sensitive when it comes to these topics, best skip the chapter (or the part of it with the call Upstairs)! I don't want to trigger anyone...
> 
> So, summary: Aziraphale finally decides to make his call Upstairs, but things don't go quite as planned: Instead of the Metatron, Gabriel picks up his call and, of course, things quickly go downhill with the archangel leaving Aziraphale pretty much broken. Still, as he finally does manage to get a hold of the Metatron, Aziraphale gets the answers he's been looking for - at least to some extent: Heaven per se isn't after them, so someone has been abusing their powers Upstairs...and the Metatron promises to actually look into it...

“Have you…actually gone through with it and contacted Upstairs?” Aziraphale looked up in surprise. He hadn’t expected this question, not now, not coming from Crowley. After all, the demon had been very decidedly against it. They’d gone out for dinner eventually, when the rain had stopped for a while, and were now back in the bookshop. Aziraphale had been reading a book while Crowley had been doing something on his phone. A game, apparently. Something called ‘Teeter’, whatever that was supposed to be. It seemed to involve tilting your phone in various directions a lot – and in Crowley’s case, it also included a lot of frustrated hissing whenever he lost. Right now, he appeared to have given up on it and instead, he turned his attention to the angel. “Well? Have you?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Well…no. Not yet. But…I intend to.” The demon rolled his eyes, but before he could object, Aziraphale continued: “There’s something wrong there, Crowley, surely you must see that. And…well…we’ve seen the way Hell tried to…well…handle things…and you said that you believe they won’t try again. But Heaven…I mean…we’re talking about _Heaven_. They cannot just arrest people at random. We were called ‘traitors’ – that doesn’t make any sense!” Crowley just scoffed. “Doesn’t make any sense? Since when does Heaven have to make any sense? The Almighty never makes sense, not if you ask me…” “Well…of course, you’re a demon. I wasn’t talking about the Almighty, though. I was talking about Heaven.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Same thing, Angel. Since God isn’t talking to anyone, where’s the difference?”

The angel sighed once again, exasperated and trying to stay calm and patient. “Crowley. Look. I refuse to believe that you seriously think that we’ve been arrested by those angels and locked up up there because God said so.” “’s what I said – not talking to anyone! My point!” Aziraphale gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. “We’re going in circles here. Will you _please_ let me try to explain?” Crowley huffed and just looked upwards in annoyance, but he remained silent, so Aziraphale continued. “Okay, jolly good. So. I think we will both agree on the fact that God isn’t involved in our recent arrest. Point One. Point Two: Whoever had us arrested, those angels called us ‘traitors’. That doesn’t make any sense.” “Well, it does. We stopped the Apocalypse.” “Will you let me finish, you wily serpent? Yes, we helped stop Armageddon. But we’ve already been tried for that. Both of us. Tried and sentenced. Punishment carried out, even if it wasn’t successful.”

Crowley grinned. “Yeah, because we’re so clever and smart…and…okay, admittedly, that ancient witch and her prophecies were rather helpful…” The angel sighed. Crowley had interrupted him again, but at least this time it was something they could both smile about and agree upon. He continued: “Well…yes. But…as I said – yes, they may see this as treason, true, but we’ve already been tried for that. And since then, we haven’t really done anything. Basically…we’re not even working for our respective employers anymore. Which means, _I’m_ not really strictly speaking working for Heaven anymore. And…well…they included you in this, too, and you haven’t worked for Heaven for millennia…unless we want to count in the times you’ve done my work during our Arrangement. So…if neither of us is really working for Heaven, how can we possibly have committed treason against them? We’re no longer…affiliated with them. And with what actions are we supposed to have done so? Think about it. We’ve pretty much been lying low since…well…since ‘Armageddidn’t’.”

Crowley frowned and seemed to ponder this a while. But then, he shrugged. “Could be something before the…‘Apoca-not’…Dunno how long Heaven can hold a grudge against its angels, but I can tell you, the grudge they hold against demons is a pretty permanent one, so it wouldn’t surprise me if –” “Yes, but that’s exactly it!”, the angel interrupted him. “That was a very official-looking arrest. But there weren’t any charges. They called us ‘traitors’, but they didn’t charge us with anything. Can’t be our involvement in stopping the Apocalypse, and there hasn’t been anything else. Grudges, yes. I won’t deny that demons generally are…pretty much in my…erm…former colleagues’ bad books. Literally. And…well…I guess, so am I, right now, at least with some of them. But…a grudge doesn’t justify an arrest. I’ve been reading up on this. Heaven has to stick to the rules. At least if they are making some official move”, he added when he saw Crowley’s sceptical expression. “This _was_ something official. But it didn’t have any…legal basis to it, Crowley. If anything, Heaven could play foul and do something akin to what Hell has done. Try to…well…dispose of us in…an unofficial way, I suppose…but not like this. This was…Well, it looks like someone tried to use their authority – or rather, abuse it – and use official means in an illegal way. Do you understand now?”

Crowley was staring at him, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. After a while, he shook his head. “Really, Angel, maybe you should try to become a lawyer…”, he muttered. Aziraphale smiled. “Do you understand now why I need to contact Heaven?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Well…you intend to get whoever did this into quite a bit o’ trouble…Bold move, I’ll give ya that…” “Well, I can’t just let it stand. It’s injustice…and…well, whoever is after us in such a way should be…well…put in their place, in a way. So that this won’t happen again.” Crowley gave him a somewhat doubtful smile. “Can backfire, though. As you said, whoever gave those orders is definitely somewhere higher up the scale. And…who’d’ you intend to reach to file a complaint? Maybe it’ll be the very angel who wants us both under lock and key…or prob’ly dead, pref’rably.” “Well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take”, Aziraphale replied grimly, “and to answer your question: I’ve reached the Metatron before, so…I guess, with God being out of reach, that’s the highest authority I can try and reach out to, so that’s what I’ll try to do.”

Crowley sighed and looked away. “I don’t like it”, he muttered, “and…even if you’re successful and whoever is behind this gets…punished…prob’ly by getting some rude note or something…or, _Heaven forbid_ , an actual slap on the fingers – if anything at all – they’ll be even more furious. You know how they are up there. Don’t like being bossed around by those they believe to be beneath them. And it will block out any official means Heaven could use to get any revenge on us, so…they might resort to similar means as Hell…”

Aziraphale nodded. That was a risk, sure. “Well…but…I’m not aware of Heaven employing assassins…I might be mistaken, but…Anyway, I don’t think anyone would dare to come after us if I’m successful. It would look suspicious if anything were to happen to us after that.” Crowley just sighed again and buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t know what else to say to this. Aziraphale had made up his mind and he knew the angel well enough to know how stubborn he could be. And maybe, well, who knew, just maybe the angel was right after all.

“Well…I assume you likely want to make this…call without me being here”, Crowley said after a moment of silence. Aziraphale fidgeted for a bit. “Well…er…yes, I…guess it’s probably not the best idea if I…contact Heaven while there’s…a demon in the same room…I…I mean…no offence, my dear, it’s just –” “No offence taken, Angel”, Crowley shrugged, “Not your fault. We both know what they’re like, up there. Stuck up, holier-than-thou, hypocritical bastards.” Aziraphale sighed. There had been a time, not too long ago, when he’d have protested, but now, after the failed Apocalypse, he felt somewhat disillusioned when it came to his fellow angels…or maybe rather specifically to his former superiors Upstairs. “Right. Well…guess I’ll best be off, then…since you’ve made up your mind…” The demon rose to his feet. “Keep me posted”, he added, moving towards the door.

It was only now that Aziraphale realised that Crowley was, in fact, about to leave. He was on his feet instantly. “Crowley…wait…I…” Crowley half turned and gave him a smirk, waving off his protest. “Nah, ‘s fine, Angel! You make your call, we’ll catch up afterwards. Y’know where to find me…and…well, we should both be safe now, at home, so…no worries…’m in the mood for some low-grade mischief and chaos, anyway…and I wouldn’t want any angel trying to thwart me, ya know?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at that. “Does it involve splashing unsuspecting pedestrians with your car or gluing coins to the pavement?” Crowley chuckled. “Well, perhaps…You know me, Angel…Demon needs to do some demonic, evil wiling once in a while…” Aziraphale shook his head, laughing. Well, Crowley did seem to be in a mischievous mood today, at least he had been this morning. Apparently, the mood had lingered or returned.

With the demon leaving now, fully expecting Aziraphale to make the call Upstairs that he’d been putting off, the angel felt that he had no choice but to actually stop making excuses. He’d wanted to contact Heaven, he knew that his case was valid and it was about time he’d finally put his plans into action. When he heard the bell jingle and, shortly afterwards, the familiar rumble of the Bentley’s engine disappearing in the distance, Aziraphale pulled away the rug to reveal the circle underneath. It took little preparation to make the call. Keeping the devastating consequences of his last call Upstairs in mind, though, the angel used tealights on saucers this time instead of full-size candles that might just topple over too easily. He took a deep breath, concentrated and tried to get a connection to Heaven. To the Metatron, preferably.

* * *

Gabriel sighed in irritation. A call? Now? He was busy organising paper work, he really had no time for this. Unless…The archangel cocked his head and frowned. Who would try to make a call up to Heaven from down on Earth? Humans called out to the Almighty all the time, but this was different. This was…angelic. And there weren’t any angels stationed down there right now. None except…that foolish principality. Gabriel sighed again, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure if he should feel annoyed or amused. Maybe a bit of both. Were angels supposed to feel like this at all? Well, he decided that this question didn’t bother him too much right now.

While he’d felt somewhat exasperated when he’d been put on duty to answer any incoming calls for all of Heaven today, he understood that it did make sense. He _was_ God’s messenger, after all. Who better than him to handle all communication? And if a certain angel was trying to make a call today, well, maybe it came in handy for Gabriel to answer this call personally. He ached to teach that principality a lesson. He’d failed in his plans before and if he was being honest with himself, he felt rather furious about it. If he answered this now, he might kill two birds with one stone: Aziraphale deserved to be put in his place and Gabriel could make sure that his own little transgression with that arrest remained a secret. The archangel put on his brightest smile and answered the call.

* * *

“Aziraphale. What can I do for you?” Aziraphale stared at the face forming above the circle for a moment, and he had the distinct feeling that he looked like the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlights. “G-Gabriel! Oh…what a surprise! I…I was actually trying to reach the Metatron…” Gabriel rolled his eyes ever so slightly. “Well, as you can see, the Metatron isn’t here at the moment. I’m handling all incoming calls right now, so…Was there something you wanted? Get back on duty, perhaps? Come to your senses, finally?” Aziraphale swallowed. “Well…no…yes…I mean…I…What I’m trying to say…The reason why I’ve called…I…I really need to speak to a higher authority.” Aziraphale hated the pleading quiver in his voice. Gabriel cast him a sceptical glance. “Well, with you being a principality – and currently off-duty, I might add – and me being an archangel, that does make me a higher authority, Aziraphale. So, what do you want?” Aziraphale swallowed again. This wasn’t going well. “I…mean a higher authority than you, actually…”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment, then he began to laugh. It sounded…cold. Harsh. Humourless. “A higher authority than me? I’m one of the archangels, sunshine. The only higher authority you could possibly hope to get a hold of is the Metatron, and as I said, they’re currently not here. So. I’m asking you again: What do you want? Please, do stop wasting my time, Aziraphale. Contrary to you, there are still angels who actually have a job to do.” Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment and took another deep breath. That had hurt. And apart from that, Gabriel unsettled him. He always had. _He’s not your boss any longer_ , he reminded himself, trying to calm himself down. _Be careful. He might be involved in this, after all. Crowley hinted at something like that…even if only God knows how a demon can possibly know_ …Aziraphale stopped this train of thoughts. It wasn’t getting him anywhere and Gabriel was obviously getting impatient. Well, there was nothing for it then, really.

Aziraphale sighed once again, pondering how to best phrase this without giving too much away. “Well…there’s…something that has happened to…well, to Crowley and me a short while ago and…Heaven…or someone from Heaven seems to be involved…and…I do have a few questions I…deman-…I’d…wish to have answers to.” Gabriel raised his brows. So this was about that, after all? Good thing he had decided to answer this call, then. He smirked. “Crowley and you? So you’re still consorting with the enemy? Aziraphale, Aziraphale…”, he sighed and shook his head, “you make me worry about you. I mean…there have been some rather…disconcerting rumours. I hoped there’d be a perfectly innocent explanation, but as it seems now, Michael was right: You _have_ been a bit of a Fallen angel, haven’t you?”

Aziraphale staring at him in shocked fear, eyes the size of saucers, was a truly priceless picture. Gabriel wasn’t done yet, however. Far from it. After all, his aim right now was to teach Aziraphale a lesson _and_ discourage him from ever trying to attempt contacting Heaven again. The principality opened his mouth to object, but the archangel didn’t let him. “Fallen in _love_ , have you? Oh dear…Aziraphale. While we are beings of love, I thought every angel knew that this was supposed to be the strictly impersonal, general love for all of Creation. Not being _in_ love with someone specific. Least of all with…something as vile and revolting as a demon. I thought you knew that. Seems he’s managed to seduce you, eh? Tempt you? Well, that’s his job, I suppose…”

Aziraphale had grown rather pale. By now, he was shaking. “I…”, he began, stammering, but Gabriel didn’t let him speak. The archangel enjoyed this way too much right now. “I’m truly worried about you, Aziraphale. I mean…do you honestly believe that this demon…I don’t know…has any feelings for you? Don’t be foolish! He’s a _demon_ , demons cannot feel anything akin to love, everyone knows that. They’re incapable of it. All they can possibly feel is lust. He’s using you, Aziraphale, playing with your emotions. Don’t be so naïve.” But now, the angel did object: “No. No, that’s not true. He wouldn’t…We…we’re…we’re friends. You don’t know him.” But Gabriel just gave him a condescending smile. “Friends? Oh, come on! I don’t know him? I don’t have to know him any better, knowing _what_ he is. And judging by your reaction…well, I have every reason to worry. I care about you, Aziraphale, I’m just trying to protect you.”

Aziraphale was shaking his head. This conversation was turning into a nightmare rather quickly. Gabriel rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Tell me, has he tried anything yet? Got into your pants?” Aziraphale stared at Gabriel in utter shock. “Wh-wha-..?” The archangel groaned, visibly annoyed. “Okay, sunshine, let me phrase it very bluntly then: Has he fucked you?” The angel blushed violently, searching for words. If anything, he was even more shocked now. Was this the same archangel who’d had no idea what pornography was? “Th-that…that’s a very personal question…”, he finally managed, “I wouldn’t know why this is of any concern to _you!_ ” “Oh, but it does concern me, Aziraphale! As I said, I’m trying to protect you. He’s a demon. And not just any demon, he’s the Serpent of Eden – the original tempter. Of course, he wants to toy with you and destroy you. Tempt and seduce you, tarnish you, sully your light, then break your heart. Hell, he might even make you Fall. You don’t want that, do you? You know, he may even play along and say that he loves you, only to make your heartbreak all the more painful.” Aziraphale was still shaking his head, trying to defend what he _knew_ to be true against these…insinuations: “That’s not true, he’d never…He’s never even tried…”

Gabriel, however, wasn’t done. “That’s what you want to believe. You’re naïve, Aziraphale. But then…you’re not even trying…Maybe that’s why he hasn’t made a move yet. I mean…”, he looked Aziraphale up and down with obvious disdain, “I mean, look at you. You’re not exactly…attractive. You were meant to be a guardian, a soldier, a fighter. Instead…you became… _this_. There’s really nothing speaking in your favour: You’re just a…cranky, old-fashioned, naïve, boring bookworm who indulges way too much in food. I told you back then to lose the gut. Just look at you. Who’d find this attractive? If you were actually trying, who knows, maybe someone could at least desire you. Maybe even that demon of yours. But as it is…” Gabriel shrugged, mentally celebrating his victory when he saw Aziraphale’s pained expression. The angel was actually close to tears. No, not just close to tears. He was fighting very hard to not break down and cry.

Aziraphale was shaking violently and trying hard not to hyperventilate. He sniffed, blinking a few times through the mist of tears forming in his eyes. One tear actually began to roll down his cheek. Gabriel had always scared him quite a bit…and the archangel had usually made him feel…inferior. But up to today, he’d never hurt him so bluntly and deliberately. _‘_ _‘m telling you right now, that wanker Gabriel most definitely had a hand in this – he knows about it at least. Wouldn’t be surprised if we were arrested on his orders.’_ Crowley’s words echoed in Aziraphale’s mind. It was this memory that gave him enough strength to at least try a last, desperate attempt to fight back. “I…I really want to talk to the Metatron now. I didn’t call Heaven to talk to you. I didn’t ask for this conversation and I will no longer endure this. So…if you please…” He hated how his voice quivered, but at least, he was trying. Gabriel just rolled his eyes. “Well, as I’ve told you, the Metatron isn’t here, I’m on duty to pick up any –” But then, Gabriel turned away from Aziraphale and there was another voice audible in the background.

* * *

Gabriel tried to suppress a groan of annoyance when his exchange with Aziraphale was interrupted by someone coming in. He quickly controlled his expression when he saw who it was. The Metatron in person. “Gabriel! We see you’ve answered a call coming in for us?” “Well…yes, obviously. As you asked me to do.” The Metatron raised their eyebrows. “Well, we also said that you were supposed to let us know immediately if anything important happened…?” Gabriel shrugged: “Well, yes, of course. It’s just the principality Aziraphale. Nothing of importance, really.” The archangel gave the Metatron his most winning smile, but they didn’t seem to be too impressed. “The principality Aziraphale, you say? Isn’t that the one who caused this debacle with Armageddon? You call that ‘nothing of importance’?” Gabriel’s smile froze quite a bit, turning icy. “Well…”, he began, but was interrupted by the Metatron. “Maybe we should take this call now. Thank you for jumping in at such short notice, Gabriel. You may go.”

The archangel wanted to object with every fibre of his being, but he knew that he couldn’t. So, he huffed, turned on his heels and left without another word. Well, he had achieved what he’d wanted – that foolish principality had looked rather broken, after all. And, all things considered, Gabriel was pretty sure that he didn’t have anything to worry about now. Aziraphale was way too shaken – if he was still on the line at all, surely the Metatron wouldn’t take him seriously now. And what was he going to tell them, anyway? No, there was truly nothing for Gabriel to worry about.

* * *

Gabriel had disappeared, but the circle was still active, the light still shining, and there were voices in the background, audible but impossible to understand. Heaven hadn’t ended the call yet. Aziraphale tried desperately to somehow collect himself. At least to some extent. He buried his face in his hands, tried to breathe normally, to pull himself together, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to face Gabriel again. Then, he heard a voice – and it was not Gabriel’s. “Principality Aziraphale, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden? You have called Heaven, despite being off-duty?” Aziraphale slowly pulled his hands down from his face and found himself looking at the Metatron.

The angel took a deep breath and tried to fight back the tears that were still welling up in his eyes. “Y-yes…yes, I have. I…I want to…to file a complaint…or…or well…I have questions, at any rate…and…depending on the answers, I wish to file a complaint.” “About? The archangel Gabriel’s behaviour towards you just now? You look a bit…distressed.” Aziraphale swallowed. He’d hoped to have himself at least somewhat under control, but it seemed that his emotional turmoil was way too obvious. “N-no…no, not about this. About…well…The demon Crowley and I have been arrested and…accused of treason…and locked up…” The Metatron raised their eyebrows. “Well, but traitors you are, undoubtedly. You made an utter mess of Armageddon.” But Aziraphale shook his head. “No…no, that’s not what I mean. I mean…yes, we did, but…we were arrested and tried for that. That…that’s over and done with. What I mean is…our arrest only a few days ago. And…I don’t know on what charges, even. I mean…we haven’t done anything since…well…since Armageddon didn’t happen.”

The Metatron looked surprised. “But you’re off-duty, Principality Aziraphale. As you said, you’ve been tried already. That’s it. There are no plans to arrest you.” “Well, but we _were_ arrested. And locked up. In Heaven. Both Crowley and me.” “Not on Heaven’s orders. There must be some misunderstanding, Aziraphale. Heaven does not arrest any member of the opposition at all and as for you, there are no further charges against you.” Aziraphale nodded. “Well…then I do wish to file a complaint. Because we _were_ arrested. Both of us. And locked up.” The Metatron contemplated him for a while, before they asked: “And how come you’re down there on Earth, then?” Aziraphale blushed a bit. “Erm…well…we…escaped? You can check the files and the surveillance – we escaped through the door closest to the prison cells?” The Metatron nodded slowly. “We shall look into it…”

Aziraphale sighed in relief. But then, Crowley’s words came back to him and he added: “Can…erm…could you…maybe…check if…if Gabriel was involved in this?” This got him another surprised look from the Metatron. “The archangel Gabriel? That is a rather strong accusation. Do you have any proof for this?” “N-no…not really…Just that…he might hold…a grudge against me…” “Angels don’t hold grudges, Aziraphale. But we shall look into it. After all, we cannot have anyone going around and abusing the authority of Heaven to arrest people at their own whim.” Aziraphale nodded. “Th-thank you…”

The Metatron was already turning to leave: “Well, if this is everything…” “Oh…w-wait! Just…just a moment. Just one more thing…to make sure. So…this means…there are no charges against me or Crowley from Heaven, right? We’re…off Heaven’s books?” The Metatron sighed. “Well…yes, for now. You haven’t done anything recently to cause Heaven to press charges.” Aziraphale nodded and sighed in relief. “Good…thank you…” “So…if this is all…” With that, the Metatron nodded at Aziraphale as a means of farewell and disappeared, the connection breaking off a mere moment afterwards. Aziraphale stood frozen for a moment, staring into nothing. Then, his emotions overwhelmed him and he sank down where he’d been standing, burying his face in his hands and sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry, Aziraphale! You didn't deserve this, you're wonderful in every way! And if Crowley ever finds out about what Gabriel said...well, let's say he'll certainly be furious...But he'll definitely also do his best to reassure his angel of how wonderful he truly is.  
> I'm not sure if I can stick to my schedule because I'll (hopefully) be on holidays this month, but we shall see. Updates will be coming as often as I can afford...


	14. Pretending I’m Doing Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his devastating conversation with Gabriel and his successful talk with the Metatron, Aziraphale feels rather broken and depressed. Still, he meets up with Crowley to let him know that they're off Heaven's books - and some time spent with his friend will surely help the angel to get back on track.

Aziraphale had expected to feel triumph. Relief. Anything, really – anything but this. Gabriel’s words, cruel, mocking and full of disdain, kept echoing through his mind. And oh, the irony! Because yes, he definitely did love Crowley. And apparently, even Gabriel knew this – only to trample on his feelings and crush his heart as well as his self-esteem like this. Michael had guessed it, Uriel as well – he remembered her calling Crowley his ‘boyfriend with the dark glasses’ – but the one person who didn’t know it was Crowley. And how could he? Aziraphale had pushed him away countless times. Insisting that they were enemies. He’d even told Crowley that he didn’t even like him. That moment had been haunting the angel for quite some time now. He knew that he’d hurt the demon back then. He also knew that he could be absolutely certain that Crowley at least liked him. When Aziraphale had admitted to Gabriel that they were friends, that hadn’t been a lie. But oh, how he wished that there was more than that! It had taken him long enough to realise what it actually was that he felt for Crowley – and when he’d realised, it had terrified him. Them being friends had been dangerous enough as it was. Anything more had been completely out of the question.

Now, however, there were also Gabriel’s words. In general, Aziraphale had always felt rather happy with who he was and how he looked. Except for those moments when Gabriel had belittled him. It had never had such an effect, however. Now, he felt crushed. And the things the archangel had said about Crowley didn’t make it any better, either. The notion that demons were incapable of feeling love was a common one. Was it really true, though? Aziraphale wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure, what Crowley felt for him. They’d never talked about any of this. He could still sense the ghostly memory of what it had felt like to have Crowley caress his wings. Now that memory just hurt him even more. He had no idea, if he was being honest with himself, how the demon saw him. Aziraphale had never really stopped to think about himself, the way he looked, the impression he might make on others…but now that he did, he felt…utterly miserable. And alone.

 _As you should be_ , he thought gloomily. The mean little voice that sounded just a bit too much like Gabriel was back. _Demons cannot love. But that doesn’t even matter. After all, even if Crowley likes you, you don’t deserve him. He came back again and again, and yet you pushed him away. You told him that he went too fast for you, that you didn’t like him, that ‘it’ was over, whatever that ‘it’ was even supposed to be. You’ve seen his face when you told him that. You keep telling yourself that you did that because you wanted to protect the two of you, because someone could have been listening, but the truth is that you just panicked, you coward. Sorry excuse of an angel! Why did Crowley come back after that at all? If he ever felt anything for you, surely, your constant rejections must have suffocated any of that by now. Really, you don’t deserve any of this_. _You don’t even look the part, as Gabriel has so kindly pointed out to you._ Aziraphale tried desperately to shut the voice up. He’d thought he was done with crying, but now the tears just welled up again.

Crowley had asked him to let him know when he’d called Heaven and tell him what he’d found out. But Aziraphale found that he couldn’t possibly contact the demon now. Not in his current state. He wanted to dig a hole and hide in that, but he also knew that he couldn’t keep Crowley waiting for too long. The demon would probably worry and come over to check in on him. That would be even worse than having to talk to him on the phone. Aziraphale shook his head. He was still sitting on the floor in front of the circle, shivering and sniffing, his eyes red from crying. He looked around and noticed that the night had given way to a new morning. The angel sniffed again and finally dragged himself up to his feet.

Well, at least they were off Heaven’s books…and maybe, just maybe, if Gabriel truly was involved in their abduction and if this was found out, maybe…perhaps…the archangel would be reprimanded in some way. It was a small consolation, if anything, and Aziraphale didn’t really find it worth pondering over. Instead, he dragged himself up the stairs to the little flat above his bookshop and straight into the rarely used bedroom. He closed the blinds and shutters with a snap, collapsed onto the bed and just stayed there, hoping to maybe fall asleep. _The last person who has actually used this bed was Crowley_. Aziraphale sighed in irritation. This really wasn’t helping now. He buried his face in the pillow, weeping silently, not caring that the pillow was getting rather wet with tears.

The angel had no idea how much time had passed when he finally managed to climb out of the bed again. His stomach had begun to grumble, complaining about a distinct lack of food. Annoyed, Aziraphale had silenced it with a mere thought. He didn’t feel like eating. Indulging in food. Way too much. And it wasn’t even necessary. Instead, he got up and made himself some tea. A few moments later, he was sitting in his usual armchair, mug in hand, looking a bit more like himself again. It seemed to be sometime in the morning, which meant that he must have fallen asleep, exhausted from crying.

Normally, the angel would probably have picked up a book, but as it was, he sat in silence, drinking his tea and occasionally looking out of the window to watch the people passing by in the street outside. When the mug was empty, he sighed. Now, there was no excuse left to postpone that phone call any longer. He reached for the old telephone and dialled the familiar number. It rang a few times, leaving Aziraphale to cast a quick glance at his pocket watch.

“Hmm? ‘ngel?” Aziraphale had been about to hang up, but…he couldn’t do that now, could he? “Oh…Crowley…H-hello, dear…I…well…I promised I’d call, right?” “Hmm? Wha’ d’ya…huh…?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh dear…don’t say I woke you up again…” “Weeell…sorta…?” “Crowley, it’s well past 11! Any decent person would be up at this time!” “Well…’m a demon, no’ a decent person…Anyway…” Despite himself, Aziraphale couldn’t help laughing a little. “You’re impossible, you know that?” Crowley objected: “Impossible? But I’m right here…Can’t be impossible, then…Nothing’s really impossible, perhaps…’s in the very word already – I’m-…-possible…” “Oh…yes…that’s quite a conundrum…”

Crowley chuckled. “Well…but…I don’t think you’ve called to have a…philosophical conversation of sorts?” “Oh…yes…no…I didn’t…As I said, I promised I’d…let you know when I’d had that…talk with…with Upstairs?” “Oh! Right! Yes, of course! So? Any success?” Aziraphale hesitated…and Crowley noticed it. “Angel…?” “Well…erm…can we maybe…not do this over the phone?” “Sure! Want me to come over?” The demon sounded somewhat wary, even though he did his best to hide it. Normally, the angel would have said yes in an instant. But as it was now, he wasn’t sure he could actually handle this. “Erm…if…if you don’t…If that’s…alright with you…could we maybe…I don’t know…meet outside? St. James’s Park, perhaps? Feed the ducks?” He could almost hear the demon shrug. “Sure, why not? Meet you there around one? Same place as always?”

Aziraphale was at the park early, already sitting on the bench and throwing some oats to the ducks when he noticed the lanky figure of his friend sauntering over. Crowley sat down beside him, slouching as usual, one arm thrown over the back of the bench. “So? Any success? Heaven still after us or…?” Aziraphale hesitated, fidgeting and casting a furtive glance at the demon. “Well…as I said…I wanted to try and contact the Metatron and…well…” He seemed to struggle how to continue, so Crowley chimed in. “Well? I suppose you must have been successful and we’re safe, since we’re meeting out here and not at your place…”, the demon mused. Aziraphale sighed. “Y-yes…I…did manage to get a hold of the Metatron eventually and…it turns out I was right. There are no charges against us from Heaven’s side. After all, we haven’t done anything to warrant any charges since… ‘Armageddidn’t’…And…the Metatron confirmed that Heaven does not arrest demons in general, anyway. So…there was definitely something fishy going on. The…the Metatron assured me that they’d look into it. Heaven, officially, isn’t after us.”

Crowley turned to face him, smiling. “Well, but that’s great news, isn’t it? We’re off Heaven’s list? Perfect! Guess we should celebrate, eh?” But when the angel looked back at him, Crowley frowned. Something about Aziraphale’s whole behaviour felt…off. Something seemed to bother the angel. “Aziraphale, you okay?” The angel managed a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Y-yes…yes, jolly good. Tip top. As you said, we’re safe. Everything’s fine.” Crowley shook his head slightly, visibly confused. “Are you sure? There’s…nothing else going on? You…don’t really seem…” The angel sighed, interrupting him, cutting the air with his hands. “I…I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Just…well, never mind. It’s fine.” “Angel…” But then, Aziraphale erupted quite a bit. “Oh, will you stop it? I said I’m fine!”

Crowley didn’t seem convinced, but he realised that pushing Aziraphale right now wasn’t the best idea. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine. Okay. So…you were successful, Heaven isn’t after us and whoever had us arrested will be in a bit of trouble if they’re found out, I assume…So…I guess, all things considered…Let’s wait and see, but as it seems, I might have to reconsider and…take back what I said. You were right, Angel. And…you succeeded. Calls for a little celebration, if you ask me…What d’ya think? Wanna go for some lunch?” “No!” Aziraphale only needed to look at the demon’s stunned face to know that his reaction had been a little over the top. He sighed, trying to play it down. “Sorry…I…I didn’t mean to be so harsh…I…I’m not really in the mood for food right now.” Crowley’s eyebrows rose up behind those dark glasses. “Not in the mood for food? Angel, are you alright? Now you’re really beginning to worry me.” “Of course I’m alright. Perfectly fine. It’s not that I need food, strictly speaking…”

Aziraphale couldn’t bear to face his friend any longer. He turned to look at the ducks once more, throwing some more oats to them. One of them, on swallowing some of the oats, sank down. Crowley stared alternately at the duck and the angel. “Aziraphale! What are you doing? If anyone’s sinking ducks here, that’s me!” “Sorry…didn’t mean to…”, the angel muttered, blushing. The duck returned to the surface, quacking loudly in angry consternation. Crowley was still staring at the angel. “Aziraphale…don’t get me wrong, but…you do seem a bit…tetchy today. Are you sure you’re okay? Can…can I do anything? I mean…I know I’m just a demon and all that, but…” “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, Crowley. Just…just leave it be.”

Crowley began to suspect that he must have done something to upset the angel. However, he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember anything that he’d said or done that might have had such an effect. Had he said something wrong on the phone? After all, Aziraphale had already been rather on edge since they’d met here. Or was it something he’d said or done when he’d left the angel alone so he could make that call to Heaven? He couldn’t think of anything he’d said on the phone that could have upset Aziraphale. And if Crowley was being honest, the angel had already sounded somewhat off during their call. So, it must be something that had happened before. The demon racked his brains, trying to remember if there’d been anything he’d said to make the angel mad at him during that day at the bookshop. It couldn’t have been anything about him grooming the angel’s wings, he was fairly sure about that. Aziraphale had seemed quite at ease then, after all. And they’d had a rather relaxed evening. Maybe the fact that he’d voiced his intention to cause some mischief and chaos? But…the angel had never really been mad at him for that before. He was a demon, after all. Both of them knew that.

Crowley shook his head. He really had no idea what he’d done wrong. All he could say for certain was that the angel was upset…and that it had something to do with him. “Aziraphale…look…Is…is it something I said or did…? I…I didn’t mean…Look, I’ll apologise, whatever it is that I’ve done that has -” But Aziraphale turned to look at him with something close to shock and then shook his head. “What? No! Oh no, Crowley, you haven’t done anything wrong. Not your fault, really.” “Then why –” “Please. Can we just…? I…It’s alright. Let’s maybe…just…take a walk or something?” Crowley frowned, but then he just nodded. “’kay, let’s go for a walk then”, he muttered, getting up from the bench, waiting for the angel to join him. If Aziraphale didn’t want to talk about it, that was that.

“I’m sorry I’m in such a bleak mood today. I shouldn’t be. You’re right – we should celebrate.” The walk seemed to have soothed Aziraphale’s nerves quite a bit. He felt better. Crowley strolling along beside him with his usual swagger, looking at him with…what the angel could only call affection, the sun shining through the clouds occasionally, the smell of grass, trees and duckpond – all that helped him to finally push that terrible conversation with Gabriel successfully to the back of his mind. It wasn’t gone, but he was finally beginning to feel more like himself again.

Crowley gave him a smile – one of those rare open and honest ones that he seemed to have reserved for Aziraphale only. “’s alright, Angel. Everyone has a bad day now and then. Let’s look on the bright side: We’re free – both Heaven and Hell will probably leave us alone for quite some time. I’d…say we could go to the Ritz for lunch, but if you don’t want to, I’m perfectly happy with a coupla drinks to celebrate.” Aziraphale looked back at him with a warm smile, finally one that was reaching his eyes and made them sparkle. “Well, that sounds rather lovely, my dear…Maybe…maybe I’d like to reconsider and…have some lunch after all…”, he admitted, noticing the rumbling of his stomach. “That’s my angel”, Crowley remarked with a smirk.

Of course, there had been a table for two available, miraculously as usual. At first, Aziraphale had still been somewhat hesitant when it came to eating, but Crowley had insisted that he wanted to invite the angel and that Aziraphale was supposed to choose whatever he liked. And well…the menu had been oh-so tempting. Soon enough, the angel was thoroughly enjoying himself – food and company being just as excellent as always, it just lifted his mind back to his usual blissful self. When they’d arrived at dessert, being already a couple of glasses in on the champagne, Aziraphale chose some white chocolate mousse with raspberries and blueberries, while Crowley picked chocolate cake with pecan nuts. At the first spoonful of his dessert, the angel closed his eyes and did that little joyous wiggle he always did whenever he tasted something delicious. The small noises he made, accompanying that, were enough to cause Crowley to almost choke on his cake. For a moment, he just watched the angel enjoying himself, until he felt he was actually able to eat some more of his own dessert.

“Angel…you should try this, it’s…well, you’d probably say ‘scrumptious’ or something…” Aziraphale chuckled at that. “Well, it does look good…but I don’t want to steal your food again, dear…” “You always do, anyway…and hey, here, I’m inviting you to do so…” The angel quirked an eyebrow at that. “You’re tempting me, you wily serpent…” The demon just grinned. “Course I am…C’mon, Angel, I know you want to.” Aziraphale laughed and shook his head good-humouredly. “Alright, fine. Temptation accomplished. But…I insist you must try mine as well. I tell you, it’s truly divine!” Crowley raised his eyebrows and gave him an ironic grin. “Weell…don’t have a spoon…Ya can eat a cake with your spoon, but chocolate mousse with a fork? I’m outta this.” The angel just tutted and rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not.” With that, he scooped up a spoonful of mousse, raspberries and blueberries and held the spoon out for Crowley expectantly.

The demon’s expression was one of complete bewildered surprise. “Ngk…wha-…? You…wanna spoon-feed me?” The angel chuckled. “Now, stop making such a fuss, dear boy. Here you go…” He moved the spoon a bit closer towards his friend who was still staring alternately at him and the spoon. “Y-…w-…ng…well…uh…f-fine then…”, Crowley finally managed and moved forward to let the angel feed him that spoonful of chocolate mousse. _What an utter bastard this angel can be_ , he thought to himself, mentally shaking his head. But he had to admit that Aziraphale was right: The white chocolate mousse _was_ delicious.

After their rather extensive lunch, they returned to the bookshop – to celebrate their freedom, as Crowley insisted. And Aziraphale was quick to assure that he still had some very exquisite bottles of wine stored at his place, befitting the occasion, of course. While somewhat flustered by the whole thing with the dessert, Crowley was more than relieved to see Aziraphale back at being his usual self. Whatever had upset the angel, it seemed to be quite forgotten now and Crowley was finally reassured that it really hadn’t been his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit early because of the Ineffable Con this weekend. I'm still not sure if I'll be at home next week or not, so I don't know how much and when I can upload, but I'll keep going, promise!


	15. Vaguely Sauntering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to get thoroughly sloshed. The results, however, turn out to be rather awkward...

“Well, tha’ wassno fun…Ssstupid dude juss’ ssstraight walked passst my coin, tellin’ ya”, Crowley slurred in a rather drunk attempt to recount to the – likewise rather intoxicated – angel some of what he’d been up to after he’d left the bookshop the last time, gesturing for illustration. The sunglasses had long been discarded and by now, the increasing hiss in his voice no longer bothered the demon. “Wasss…way funner when tha’…posh lady came by ‘n’ ac-actu-…-‘lly broke the heel of her shoe in ‘n attempt to get the coin…ugh…wai’…Funner? Tha’…sss…dssn’t ssound right…”

Aziraphale squinted at him. “Yes…’t’s because ‘funner’ isn’t ev’n a word, dear…’s ‘more fun’…” “Huh? Wha’sss more fun? More fun than wha’?”, Crowley asked in visible confusion. The angel sighed. “You j-jis’ said it wrong…’t’s not ‘funner’…The comp-…compra-…comparative of ‘fun’ ‘s ‘more fun’.” Crowley stared at him for a moment, trying to process what the angel had told him. “’ss wha’ I ssaid…”, he mumbled, “Funnier…” Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose up. “Yeah, _that_ exists! ‘at’s better!” Crowley blinked slowly, contemplating. “Sssso…’funnier’ isss…more righter than ‘funner’…or wronger? Uuughh…’ngel”, he shook his head and ran a hand across his face, seeming somewhat lost.

Aziraphale stared at him with a sour expression, as if he’d been forced to chew down a whole lemon. “C-Crowley, dear…wha’ are you doin’? L-losin’ your capaba-capability to…to speak?” The demon groaned and buried his face in his hands. “But…Angel…look…Issss…issssit not the cassse tha’…adj-adjectives wi’ one ssyll-…-ble…work with…well…like…like ‘nice’? Nicer, nicesst…You’re the nicessst Angel ‘n’ that sstuff…Why’ssit not ‘wronger’ ‘n’ ‘righter’?” Now it was the angel’s turn to groan. “Ugh…Crowley…really…I…I could prob’ly check a book…or two…or ten…prob’ly find som’ing…bu’…wan’ me to do this _now?_ ”

Crowley’s face had turned rather apprehensive at the mere suggestion of checking books for an answer. “Nah…’ss alright…Where wass I? Ah…righ’…that lady wi’ her shoe ruined, hobblin’ off all mad jisss’ becausse o’ that coin glued to the pavement…” He chuckled, apparently highly amused by the memory. Aziraphale poured himself another glass, muttering something along the lines of ‘wily old serpent’.

“Language…’ss a funny thing…”, Crowley mused and then squinted at Aziraphale. He didn’t say anything else, but he seemed to try very hard to concentrate on something. Aziraphale looked up from his glass with a frown. “Crowley? Y’okay?” It looked as if the demon was counting something in his mind or something like that. He shook his head, eyebrows draw together, and hissed. “Jussst…tryna…sspell ya backwardss…your name…” The angel looked at him in surprise. “Why? Well…ma name backwards…Wait…tha’…that’s Elahpariza…” Crowley’s eyes grew wide. “Ya know that? Your name backwardss? How?” The angel shrugged. “Course I do…I think it sounds rather nifty. And yours…should be…”, he thought about it for a brief moment before announcing the result with a half-suppressed snort, “Yelworc!” “Wot!?” The demon looked profoundly rattled. “Yelworc”, Aziraphale confirmed.

“Bleurgh…ssoundsss like…dunno…ssome…alien ssssp-…sh-…shpess-…shpeciesss…” Aziraphale chimed in, trying to help Crowley along: “Spessiesh…?” Ultimately, the demon waved it off and avoided the word altogether: “Life form! Anyway…Sssoundss awful…Imma gonna change ma name…” “What??? You’ll do nothin’ o’ the s-sort!”, Aziraphale objected, his protest interrupted by a hiccup. But Crowley seemed adamant. Or, at any rate, as adamant as a thoroughly sloshed demon could be. “Sure will! Ya won’t ssstop me!” “Crowley!” “’sss ma name, can do wadda like wi’it…” “Anthony Crowley!” “Witch…uhm… _watch_ me!” “Anthony J. Crowley…” “Juuuuussst…needa g-good…fittin’ new one…” “Anthony Just-a-J. Crowley! Will you listen! You’ll mo-mos’cer’n’ly _not_ change your name! Like your name! Shoo-…suits you.” Crowley had pretty much frozen at Aziraphale’s latest objection and was still staring at the angel. “Ngk…’kay…wha’e’er ya sssay…”, he finally slurred, waving it off. If the angel addressed him like this, how could he possibly do anything but give in and agree? “Ssstill think it ssoundss pr’y ssstupid…”, he muttered.

Aziraphale shook his head, smiling. Then, he stopped shaking it, since doing so made him feel rather dizzy. “How’d’ya do that, anyway?”, the demon asked, out of the blue. “D-do what?” “Ssspell backwardsss…” “Oh…”, the angel shrugged, “guessit…might be ‘cause I…read a lot?” Crowley squinted at him, but then he just shrugged it off with a slight huff. “Anyway…language surely _isss_ ssstrange…I mean…did ya know that if…if ya put William Shakessspeare into the passst, ya end up wi’ ‘Would-I-wasss Shook-sssspeared?”. Aziraphale’s face went through a whole bunch of different expressions until he finally settled on a somewhat irritated frown. “Well, my dear…to quote ‘Hamlet’, Act III, scene…oh, ’m afraid I’ve quite forgotten which scene, but…to quote ‘Hamlet’: ‘No.’ Tha-that’s…actually rather silly, you silly serpent…”

Crowley just shrugged, his attention shifting to something else. “Could usssssome more wine, ‘ngel”, he slurred after a while, holding up his glass and pointing at it with his other hand – well, more or less _at_ it. “’sss empty…” To illustrate, he tipped it over, spilling what little was actually still left in the glass over the sofa, the carpet and himself. “Ugh…’m wet…” The angel snorted. “Guess you’ve had…q-quitenuff o’ that…” Crowley looked thoroughly offended. “How dare you? Lettin’ me die of thirsst here…”

Aziraphale scoffed, rolled his eyes and got up, bottle in hand, to walk over to his friend and fill his glass once again. He swayed for a moment, blinking and fighting to find his balance. What the angel believed to be a straight line from his armchair to the demon on the sofa was in reality a rather slanting bend he was staggering along. He tried to pour the wine, only to realise that he’d spill half of it over Crowley if he didn’t get a hold of the glass as well. So, he grabbed Crowley’s glass – alongside with the demon’s hand holding the glass up, which, in turn, caused Crowley to stare wide-eyed at their hands and splutter some unintelligible noises. Squinting one eye closed, the angel poured his friend another glass of wine. Then, he took a swig from the bottle himself, for good measure, and after that, instead of returning to his armchair, he slumped down on the sofa beside Crowley.

“Cheers…”, Aziraphale muttered, gently clinking the bottle against Crowley’s glass before taking another swig. He heard the demon snort and chuckle. “I getta glasss…he getsssa whole bottle…” The angel began to laugh at this. “Oooh…good Lord…guess we’re pretty drunk…D’ya think we should…sober up?” Crowley pulled a face. “Nah…don’ wanna do tha’…no’ yet…Lesss jussst…keep drinkin’ a bi’…” He toasted with his glass once again, giving the angel a warm smile. Aziraphale’s hand over his own holding the glass had sent a jolt of fuzzy warmth through him and now that the angel was actually sitting right beside him, he was determined to enjoy this for just a bit longer.

The first thing Aziraphale became aware of was that he was lying on his back and that his mouth felt rather parched. His tongue seemed to have turned into a piece of leather or something like that for all he could tell. He realised that he was lying on something soft-ish and that this something also pressed against his left side. The sofa? There was a dull throbbing in his head that he chose to ignore for the moment. And there was something warm and heavy lying on top of him, right up to his chest. Slowly, his brain began to function. _What in Heaven’s name…?_ , he began and opened his eyes, trying to sit up, but that very action immediately stopped any coherent thoughts he had. He winced and moaned as the dull throbbing in his head turned into a sharp pain that reminded him quite a bit too vividly of the one he’d felt when he’d woken up in that cell up in Heaven. But this time, no one had hit him over the head…

His movements and his groan caused whatever was lying on top of him to slightly shift and move as well. Still confused, the angel slowly opened one eye – and the first thing he saw was a shock of tousled red hair. “C-Crowley…?”, he managed, hoarse and somewhat confused. His head was still pounding, but he forced himself to open both eyes now. The demon was lying on top of him, flat on his stomach, arms wrapped around him and legs sprawled in rather awkward angles, one sticking up the back of the sofa, the other hanging over the armrest in what definitely looked like a very uncomfortable position. The angel noticed that his own right leg had obviously either slipped off the sofa or been pushed off by Crowley occupying too much space. Aziraphale’s left leg, buried under the demon, seemed to have gone quite thoroughly numb. For a moment, the angel just stared and tried to make sense of this situation. He had a nasty headache, felt somewhat dizzy…and the evening before seemed rather blurry. He couldn’t remember falling asleep – and definitely not in this position. “Oh dear”, he muttered, which caused the demon to slowly come to his senses as well.

Crowley actually felt rather fine, at least for a moment. He was sleeping on something soft and warm and…and it felt like…home…like… _Angel_ , his subconscious helpfully suggested to his still fuzzy brain. With a happy sigh, he wrapped his arms a bit tighter around whatever he was hugging, until realisation dawned on him. _Oh shit_ …Then, he felt the angel shift underneath him, heard him groan in pain and stammer his name and then some other stuff. Panicked, Crowley opened his eyes and tried to scramble into a sitting position. He failed, wincing and hissing when the pain exploded in his own head. It took him a moment, but ultimately, he managed to open his eyes and carefully raise himself up a bit. “Oh…ngk…Angel…I…gnn…”, was all he could manage, as they both disentangled themselves until they finally sat next to each other on the sofa, both rather pale, both clutching their hurting heads, and both feeling very awkward.

“Oh…blessssed hangover…”, the demon muttered, burying his face in his hands in an attempt to shut the light out as well as any stares he might get from the angel. Right now, Crowley felt way too afraid and embarrassed to look at him. “Ssssorry…”, he finally added sheepishly. Aziraphale was likewise still holding his head in his hands, but he noticed the meek tone of his friend’s voice. “It’s alright, dear…Just…Let’s just agree on this: Next time one of us suggests we sober up, we’ll just do it, alright?” “’kay…yeah…sssoundss fine…”, Crowley replied while, with somewhat shaky fingers, he drew on the energies to cure his hangover.

Almost at the same moment, Aziraphale concentrated as best he could in his current condition and began to slowly take care of his own hangover. It took him a moment, and, while he was still working on it, he felt a brush of fingers against his own and a warm tingle of energy. It combined with the energies he’d drawn on himself, and a moment later the hangover was gone. The angel turned to look at the demon beside him, somewhat surprised, but Crowley didn’t even look at him. He just slowly shook his head, sighed and ran both hands across his face. “Poor buggers…”, he muttered. Aziraphale frowned, confused: “Who?” “Humans…They’d have to live with this for the whole day. At least! Cruel punishment for a bit of indulging in alcohol if you ask me…” “Huh…” Aziraphale just shrugged, staring straight ahead, and shook his head.

For a moment, they remained like this, both sitting on the sofa and pretty much simply staring into space. Then, finally, Aziraphale pulled himself out of the stupor and got up. “Well, I guess it’s time for breakfast, don’t you think?” Crowley slowly looked up at him. He seemed to need a while to process the angel’s words, but then he nodded. “Yeah…sure…sounds fine with me…” With that, he stood up as well and followed Aziraphale upstairs into the kitchen.

Their breakfast this time wasn’t quite as elaborate as the last one the angel had prepared, but it was fine enough. Aziraphale told Crowley to just set the table and let him take care of everything else. So, soon enough, with the table set, Crowley was already seated, watching his friend bustle around in the kitchen. This time, the angel also tried his hand at making coffee for his demonic friend. After all, Crowley had shown him how to do it last time. Somewhat shy about the result, he placed the steaming mug in front of Crowley, waiting for him to take a sip and pass a judgement. The demon picked it up, tried it and his eyebrows rose up. “Mmmh! Well done, Angel. ‘s perfect!”, he acknowledged with an appreciative smile. Aziraphale beamed. “Oh…well…that’s jolly good! Glad I got it right…”

With that, he sat down opposite Crowley with his own mug of tea and they enjoyed a quiet breakfast together in the little kitchen, neither of them mentioning the way they’d spent the night. Both were trying rather hard to ignore the way they’d woken up and to not think about it or remind the other of it, but at the same time neither could quite forget about it. It all felt a bit awkward at first, since neither Crowley nor Aziraphale really found anything to talk about for some time to truly take their minds of the previous night and the morning. Only after a while did the mode of conversation shift back to their usual easy-going banter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...this is what happens if you're having weird conversations on Twitter with people who are your kind of crazy, so here's a big shoutout for the inspiration for some of this.  
> Aziraphale is quoting Hamlet, Act III, Scene III, line 87 - but he probably had no idea whatsoever that this very quote has also been used as a meme on the internet. Crowley, on the other hand, is probably very well aware of the already existing joke on Shakespeare's name - in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he's responsible for it.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter - I guess it might be the funniest in the whole story...Hope you like it...


	16. A Bit of a Bastard…and a Book-Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their drunk night and the somewhat awkward breakfast, Aziraphale finally gets the chance to repay Crowley for healing his wing - after all, the demon has lost quite a lot of feathers, which does have its rather uncomfortable consequences...

They were almost done with breakfast, when, all of a sudden, Crowley grimaced and let out a rather dramatic groan. “Ugh, oh _nooo!_ ”, he added, practically jumping out of his chair. Aziraphale looked at him in obvious worry. “Crowley, what is it?”, he asked. The demon hissed and sighed in exasperation, but instead of an answer, he materialised his wings. Immediately, a couple of black feathers were floating through the air. As if that wasn’t enough of a hint already, he stretched his wings a bit – as far as was possible in the little kitchen – so that Aziraphale could see all the places where new feathers were breaking through. “I’m moulting!”, Crowley groaned miserably. He began to shift in obvious discomfort until, apparently, he couldn’t bear it any longer, turned to grab one wing and scratched at it.

Aziraphale stared for a moment. Yes, moulting usually wasn’t the nicest experience one could go through. It was always a somewhat itchy business. But with the sorry state Crowley’s wings had been in, it was actually a good thing that the feathers were growing back now, wasn’t it? Aziraphale tried to point that out to the demon – at least, his wings would be as good as new afterwards. But that seemed to be little consolation for Crowley right now. The demon had slammed himself backwards against the door frame, using it as some sort of a scratching post for his wings. “Yeah, great! Wonderful. Courssse they’ll grow back, but with sssso many of them missssing, it’ll take daysss…Weeksss, maybe…Urgh, blesssssed Heaven, for _fuck’sss sssake_ …”

The hissing was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t feeling well at all. “Well…at least your wings have obviously reacted rather quickly to…well…your involuntary, forcible loss of feathers…”, Aziraphale tried to encourage him. “Yeah, awesssome…Terrific…”, Crowley grumbled in visible discomfort. “Itching so badly?”, Aziraphale asked, but the answer was fairly obvious. Crowley just glared at him and didn’t even bother to reply. Moulting wasn’t particularly pleasant at the best of times, but with so many feathers missing as was the case with Crowley’s wings right now, it must be rather agonising. The demon had grabbed one of his wings again, scratching rather violently. “Crowley! Stop that, you’ll scratch yourself bloody!” But Aziraphale only got an angry hiss as a reply.

But then, suddenly, the angel remembered something. He slapped his brow, eyes wide. “Oh good Lord! Crowley! I clean forgot! I…I told you I’d look and see if I could find a way to fix this for you, right? Remember? And…well, I did! I’m so terribly sorry, it slipped my mind…But I think I can help you…” Crowley was so surprised that he forgot his itching wings for a moment, stopped scratching and just stared at the angel. “You…you do?” Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I do. Come on, dear, let’s go downstairs…I’ll have to check again in that book…and we’ll need some space anyway…” Still somewhat wide-eyed, the demon followed the angel down into the bookshop, once again back to scratching his wings and hissing ever so slightly from time to time as he did so.

“Wait here”, the angel said once they stood in the middle of the bookshop, and he left Crowley alone for a moment, rummaging somewhere behind some shelves. Aziraphale found the specific book he was looking for in no time – after all, he knew pretty much exactly where he’d left it. When he returned, book in hand, he found Crowley with his back flat against the bookshelves, quivering wings outstretched as wide as possible to cover as much surface as he could, using the shelves in his futile struggle against the itch that was tormenting him. The angel huffed. “Crowley! Would you stop that! My bookshelves aren’t scratching posts! You’re going to damage the books! Please, for God’s sake, those books are old, the spines and bindings are delicate! And…and there are feathers all over! Pull yourself together, will you!” The demon’s reply was an exasperated hiss and a rather melodramatic groan, but he did step away from the shelves, wings still twitching now and again, until, with another groan, he grabbed one of them again to start scratching at it once more.

Aziraphale sighed. When it came to his books, the angel felt rather protective. But he also felt sorry for his friend who was so obviously in discomfort. “Look, erm…maybe…best sit down right here and…I’ll sit down behind you and…well, we’ll have this all fixed in no time…”, he suggested while flipping the book open at the page where he’d left the bookmark. Crowley sighed. “Whatever you say, Angel…”, he just muttered and slumped down to the floor. Aziraphale sat down behind him, feeling oddly reminded of the day Crowley had groomed his wings, their roles strangely reversed now. He placed the book in front of him, reading through the instructions once again, and sighed.

“You know, Crowley, you were right, by the way…” “Huh?” The demon half turned his head, but he seemed somewhat distracted. The twitch in his right wing, an attempt to shake off the itch, told the angel clearly enough what exactly it was that kept his friend’s mind so occupied. But at least he tried to concentrate on what Aziraphale was saying. “You couldn’t have done this yourself. Because…well…I’ll have to place my hands right between your shoulder blades, between your wings. Obviously, you couldn’t do this yourself, it’s physically quite impossible. At least…to do it properly and with wings out and all…I mean…no way…” Crowley sighed. “Yeah, told you so…gnn…Angel, pleassse…jussst…” He was obviously fighting very hard not to start scratching at his wings again. “Okay…”, Aziraphale muttered, cracked his fingers and then placed his hands firmly on the demon’s back, right between his wings.

Aziraphale looked at the book again, then he closed his eyes, concentrated, drew on the energies he needed and quietly invoked the spells the book suggested. He felt the energy flowing and tried his best to harness it and to direct and guide it in the right direction, into the demon’s wings. It took quite a bit more energy than he’d anticipated, but he finally felt it finding its destination. Even if he hadn’t felt it, Crowley’s sudden startled gasp was enough of a hint. The demon couldn’t help it – the sudden rush from his shoulder blades down to the very tips of his wings, forcing all those missing and still developing feathers to grow back in an instant, was rather overwhelming. For a short moment, it seemed unbearable. Aziraphale heard the rustle of feathers and when he opened his eyes, he noticed that the demon was sitting unusually straight, wings stretched out wider than before – and in all their usual glory of glossy, silky iridescent black.

“You really did it…”, he heard Crowley mutter with another gasp. The angel himself, on the other hand, was hardly breathing at all. Tentatively, he stretched out his fingers, gently brushing them against the soft, silky feathers in front of him. “I did it…It worked…”, Aziraphale mumbled. Crowley’s wing quivered ever so slightly under his hesitant touch. The angel marvelled at the myriad of colours – blue, green, purple, indigo, silver – that shimmered in the raven-black feathers in the light of day. _Beautiful_ , he thought, not for the first time. But it was the first time that he could actually look at them this closely. He hardly realised that his fingers were still gently caressing them.

Crowley sat frozen, eyes closed, jaws clenched – he hardly dared to breathe. A part of him wished for the angel to continue and to please, please, _please_ not stop doing this, while another part was very aware that he was about to bite his tongue to stifle any embarrassing noises and that he wouldn’t be able to keep silent forever, with the angel doing this. This latter part was relieved when Aziraphale finally pulled himself out of his reverie and broke the contact. The angel swallowed. “Well…look at that…All tickety-boo…all back to their former glory…”, he finally stated. Crowley let out a breath. Of relief? Regret? He wasn’t quite sure about that himself.

A moment later, they were both back on their feet. Crowley cast a glance at his wings and then looked back at Aziraphale with apparent astonishment. “Well…’m impressed, Angel…You did it…I…uhm…Thank you, I suppose…?” Aziraphale blushed a bit. “Oh, it’s alright, my dear fellow. Was the least I could do, really”, he said, looking down at the book in his hand. “Glad I could help”, he added. Crowley noticed that the angel was swaying ever so slightly. “Are you okay?” “Yes, jolly good…Just a tad dizzy. It…does require a bit of energy…A bit more than it said here…Guess you were right about angels and demons and that it…takes a bit more in such cases than it would for angels healing angels…”

Crowley frowned, eyeing the book with suspicion. “What kinda book is that, anyway?”, he asked, finally folding his wings and putting them away. “Oh…well…erm…”, the angel stammered, blushing yet again, but keeping a rather protective grip on the book. Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “May I see?”, he asked, holding out a beckoning hand. Aziraphale swallowed and then, with some hesitation, he handed it over, still marking the page he’d just used with his thumb. Therefore, it was that very page Crowley first looked at. He put his thumb in and chose to first examine the overall appearance of the book. It had a strangely ethereal air about it. Its cover was golden, with intricate silvery floral patterns, the pages of sublime quality. The paper shimmered slightly, the edges all golden. Was that real paper at all? He opened it at the marked page once again. Were those letters printed or written? It seemed to be a manuscript, in fact, but in such clear-cut, copperplate handwriting that it could just as well have been printed. Only now did he begin to actually read, squinting and frowning, holding it almost at arm’s length.

Aziraphale watched him for a while, now frowning as well. Crowley felt the angel’s questioning glance. “Well, I _can_ read, Angel. I just…don’t do it a lot. Y’know…slit pupils. Excellent night vision, but…tiny letters up close? A bit tough on the eyes…” “Oh…”, realisation dawned on Aziraphale. “Oh, my dear boy, I…I’m so sorry!” But Crowley shrugged it off: “Nah, don’t fret. ‘ve never been much of a reader anyway. ‘s fine.” Aziraphale wasn’t entirely convinced. “So…erm…you…you’re…far-sighted, then? Maybe reading glasses could do the trick…” But the demon just snorted, seeming somewhat amused. “Don’t think there’s much reading glasses can do about this…But as I said, it’s fine, I’ve never been that much into it anyway…” “Well, if you want, I could read to you instead…?” Crowley gave him a smile and shook his head, half amused, half embarrassed.

“Yeah, well…ngh…Can we…stop talking about my eyes now? What’s far more interesting is this book…” After reading through the page Aziraphale had just used to fix his wings, Crowley leafed through the rest of the book, skimming over the contents. “This…What sort of a book _is_ this, anyway? I mean…’s not the kinda stuff humans usually come up with. And why should they? This…this is…very specifically angelic. All of it. For angels. By angels. _How_ … _?_ How did this end up in your bookshop? I mean, no offence, you _are_ an angel, but…” Crowley shook his head. After all, while the angel’s usual books were, without a doubt, priceless, antiquarian editions, they were all of an earthly source, even the ones on prophecy. Contrary to this one.

Aziraphale looked strangely…guilty. Conscience-stricken. “Well…erm…I…I do have a couple of others like this one…”, he finally admitted. Crowley raised his eyebrows. “More books like this one?” “Well…yes…and…well, you’re quite right. They…they aren’t of an earthly nature. They…are from the Heavenly Library, actually.” Crowley’s eyes grew even wider: “You have books _here_ …from the library _up in Heaven_?” The angel shrugged, trying to play it off. “Well…I don’t know why you think this is so unusual. As you surely recall, as I’m sure I’ve told you, I spent a lot of time working in the Heavenly Library, setting it all up, before I was assigned to guard the Eastern Gate of Eden. So…whenever I found the time when I had to go Upstairs, I went over for a visit.”

Crowley watched him, eyebrow quirked up and a slight smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. Aziraphale seemed way too fidgety for this to be the whole truth. “And when’s the last time you’ve been there, Angel?” “Erm… quiteawhileago…”, the angel blushed, avoiding his gaze, his muttered reply hardly a whisper. “What?” “I said, quite a while ago”, the angel replied somewhat desperately. “So? And…do they know you have books of theirs down here?” Crowley was enjoying this way too much. Aziraphale squirmed. “Well…n-not necessarily…” “Ha! You’re a book-thief!” “What? No!” Now, Aziraphale did look at him, eyes wide in indignant shock. Crowley grinned. “You naughty angel…You nicked books from the library up in Heaven…” “I did not! I borrowed them.” “Without returning them.” “Well…it’s…more like…a permanent borrowing?” “Which is called ‘stealing’, Angel.” “Well, I can hardly go up there and give them back now, can I?”, Aziraphale protested rather indignantly. Crowley still smirked. “And how long have you had them here, hm? No time to return them before Armageddon?” “Erm…for quite a while, actually…yes…”, the angel admitted, “But I…I don’t think they actually miss them very much up there…”

The demon chuckled. “Well, you are quite a bastard, Aziraphale….and a book-thief, too…Must be my evil, demonic influence on you…” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and sighed, somewhat exasperated. “Well…do you want me to return them?” “What are the other ones about? This here seems to be rather specifically about healing…” The angel sighed. “They’re on various topics, really. I…just thought them interesting at the time…or I simply liked the way they looked…I mean, look at this. It’s art in the shape of a book.” Crowley slightly cocked his head, contemplating the book. Then he opened it again, leafing through it once more.

“There are quite a lot of interesting things in there”, Aziraphale remarked, “healing spells and rituals of various kinds, by various angels…some even by Raphael himself, as it seems…Like…the one I just used for your wings…” Crowley flinched ever so slightly. He half expected Aziraphale to ask him how on Earth he, a demon, had known that specific spell. Or rather, known enough about it at least to tell the angel that he couldn’t do it himself. But that question didn’t come. “Are you alright?”, the angel asked, but the demon just sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, sure…Ya know…Tell ya what, I think we should really keep this. I mean…we’re down here, on our own. Those buggers up there have plenty of other angels they can ask for help if they need to. We don’t. ‘s only you and me, no one else to go to if we ever need any help. So…yeah, we should keep it. Might come in handy. And who knows, some of those angels who actually came up with this whole stuff would probably agree with us keeping it…” He gave the angel a lopsided smile.

Aziraphale frowned slightly, but he nodded. Crowley’s reasoning seemed sound, and it went along similar lines to the angel’s own contemplations. The books didn’t seem to be missed Upstairs and, after all, Crowley was right. They were on their own. A little bit of help in the form of books might be really useful now and again, just as it had today. Without this book, Crowley would probably be going up the walls by now and scratching his wings bloody. The other books were on other topics, but who knew, they might come in just as handy as this one some day.

“Do you…want to see the others?”, Aziraphale finally asked. “Sure, yeah, why not…”, Crowley replied with a shrug, the book on angelic healing still in his hands, and he followed the angel. “Of course, I have them tucked away safely, so that no human may find them in here. And…also none of the angels who ever came here have ever found any of them…”, Aziraphale explained, sounding somewhat proud, despite himself. Crowley couldn’t hold back a chuckle and shook his head in amusement. The other books were on various topics, some on historic events recorded up in Heaven, others on angels, their names and occupations, others on art and music, all of them unearthly beautiful to look at. Crowley was still more fascinated by the fact that these books were here, in Aziraphale’s bookshop, at all, rather than being impressed by their artful, heavenly beauty. His angel, a book-snatcher. Well, it seemed, Aziraphale did have some qualms about it, but nevertheless, it didn’t change the fact that he’d practically stolen these books.

Crowley kept smiling to himself and Aziraphale’s own enthusiasm for the books soon made the angel forget that he was supposed to feel remorse for having them here in the first place. After all, he could always console himself with the fact that he’d never _meant_ to steal them – he’d just borrowed them. That was the whole point of a library, right? And…admittedly, while he had borrowed them long ago, he really couldn’t return them now, could he? Besides, nobody seemed to miss them, and he took very, very good care of them, too. And yes, there was also the fact that having books, especially like this one on healing, at their disposal was indeed very recommendable in Aziraphale’s opinion. Especially when he considered the most recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if moulting might be generally more uncomfortable for demons than for angels...who knows? When I stumbled across the idea that Crowley's eyes aren't exactly the best suited for reading, I thought that made an awful lot of sense, although I believe him when he says that he's never been that much into reading anyway. And yes, my personal belief is that, if anyone up in Heaven has worked enthusiastically on installing a library and keeping it running, it's definitely Aziraphale.  
> Holidays are over, so I'll see to what extent I can stick to my schedule, but an update at least once a week should definitely be possible. Hope you have a good time reading!


	17. To Mend the Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way Aziraphale and Crowley woke up after their drunken night and the fact that Gabriel's words are still gnawing at the angel don't remain without consequences: A few misunderstandings lead to a fight, with Crowley storming off and Aziraphale realising too late that he's hurt his best friend. But he also knows how to apologise, and in the end, some flying might be involved...

“Look…about last night…”, Aziraphale started, fidgeting, wringing his hands and feeling rather uncertain how to phrase things. Crowley swallowed and stared at the angel. _Oh shit, he hasn’t forgotten after all_ , he thought, trying to fight back a surge of panic. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that…Was a mistake…Should’ve sobered up, really…”, he muttered, interrupting the angel. Aziraphale gave him a strange look for a moment, but then he nodded. “Yes…rather…Glad you agree on that.” That, after all, was definitely something they could both agree upon, right? Nobody liked hangovers. By now, Aziraphale had put the heavenly books safely away once again and after a while, their conversation had turned back to the elephant in the room that they’d both been avoiding to address. The angel still felt rather wary of doing so – in fact, he mentally kicked himself now for actually doing it. Why couldn’t he just have kept quiet about it and forget it all? Crowley stared back at him, his eyes unreadable behind those confounded sunglasses he was wearing once again, but Aziraphale could see that the demon was frowning.

 _A mistake, right. So the angel agrees on that._ _Shit_. For a moment, Crowley struggled to breathe at all. He was more than grateful for the fact that he’d just put his sunglasses on a mere moment ago – at least one piece of armour to hide behind. Of course, it had been a mistake. What else was it supposed to be? Aziraphale was an angel, after all…and he was a demon. “Sssorry ‘bout…well…y’know how it iss…Sssnake…Tend to…uh…hold onto whatever keepsss me warm…Didn’t mean to, ah…well, anyway…” Aziraphale’s expression was strangely pained. “Well…I’m glad I was a…convenient heating blanket for you, then”, he retorted.

Crowley slightly shook his head. The angel’s reaction confused him. After all, he’d made it pretty clear that he’d thought of this rather embarrassing moment as a mistake. Still, Crowley couldn’t shake the feeling that he was misinterpreting something here. Helpless, the demon shrugged. “Well…’m jusst a demon…”, he muttered, more to himself than to Aziraphale. Of course, while friendship might be okay, the angel would never want him _this_ close. He’d pushed him away often enough to make him realise that. And this time wasn’t any different…was it?

Aziraphale crossed his arms, Gabriel’s words coming back to haunt him. And gnaw at him. Maybe there was some truth in them, after all? Before he could stop himself, he snapped at Crowley: “Yes…of course…you are. A demon, sure. Always making the best of everything, taking advantage, whatever’s most convenient. Whatever suits you best. Only natural. Nothing else to expect. Didn’t mean anything, of course. Why should you ever consider anyone else’s situation?” Crowley felt as if the angel had slapped him in the face. He stared at Aziraphale for a moment, open-mouthed, then uttered a string of unintelligible noises and taking a step backwards. He felt as if he was suffocating. “I should go…”, he finally managed and practically rushed for the door, almost stumbling over his own feet.

Aziraphale realised in this moment that he must have misinterpreted the situation…and that he’d gone too far. Again. He’d obviously hurt Crowley. Again. The angel groaned, annoyed by himself, but how should Crowley understand now that Aziraphale’s exasperation was directed at himself, not at Crowley? “Crowley, wait!”, the angel called after him. “No, ‘ss fine…jussst need sssome air…”, he muttered as he hurried out through the door, slamming it shut behind him. The bell tinkled violently and Aziraphale could only stare at the closed door for a moment. Then, he closed his eyes and sighed, not quite sure if he wanted to cry, scream or kick himself.

Crowley stormed off to his Bentley, slid into the driver’s seat, put his shaking hands on the steering wheel…but couldn’t get himself to actually start driving. He tried to somehow catch his breath, stopping himself from hyperventilating. _You idiot, you don’t even_ need _air, get a grip, for Hell’s sake_ , he thought, trying to force himself to calm down. _Just a demon, that’s what you are. The angel is right. And he’s an_ angel _. Of course he’s not interested in you in that way. Be grateful for what you have, for his friendship. Or…maybe even just his pity…Stop pushing him into a direction he’ll never want, you’ll just end up pushing him away_ …Crowley sighed. He turned on the engine and pushed down the gas pedal with quite a bit more force than was necessary or advisable.

 _You’re a fool, an idiot…lovesick fool. You’re a demon, damn it! He’s an angel. ‘We’re not friends. We’re an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you!’ ‘You go too fast for me, Crowley.’ ‘There is no ‘our side’.’ ‘It’s over.’_ Aziraphale’s words kept echoing through his mind, words he couldn’t quite forget, words that always managed to thrust a dagger right through his guts and twist it just a bit more with every repetition. And right now, his mind was playing them again and again and again in a loop, causing that little voice in the back of his mind to continue its sneering mockery. _Demon. Foul fiend. Fallen. Damned. Unforgiveable. Part of the job description, being unforgiveable. Abandoned and unwanted. By God as well as by…well, everyone else. Why would an angel be interested in spending time with you at all? Let alone feel anything like…well_ … _what you’re feeling…You’re not even supposed to feel anything like this anyway. A failure, even as a demon._

“You’re an idiot, Crowley”, he said to himself. How long had he been pining for that angel? And…shouldn’t Aziraphale know? He _had_ to know about this. After all, angels could sense love, right? That was one of those things Crowley had actually been slightly panicking over for ages now. Angels were beings of love, and they could sense it. So, Aziraphale _had_ to be aware of this, he just…didn’t feel the same way and therefore chose to ignore it. And who could blame him? Who in their right mind would fall in love with a demon? It was pathetic, really. Ridiculous. Still, he’d been quite sure that the angel at least…liked him. Saw him as a friend. But then, if that was the case, why would Aziraphale hurt him like this? To keep him at arm’s length, perhaps?

For a while, he drove in silence, before he decided that maybe some music would take his mind off the turmoil of his own emotions. Instantly, Freddie Mercury sounded through the car: _‘Love of my life, you’ve hurt me, you’ve broken my heart and now you leave me…’_ Crowley groaned and moved to switch the channel. It wasn’t getting any better, though – if anything, it got worse. The next channel played _‘Love Kills’_. Well, great! He certainly felt like it right now. Somewhat desperate, Crowley changed the channel again. _‘Inside, my heart is breaking, my makeup may be flaking, but my smile still stays on’_ , Freddie sang. Crowley tried to press the button again, only for the music to change from _‘The Show Must Go On’_ directly to _‘It’s a Hard Life’_. Was this blessed car trying to mock him or telling him to buck up? He wasn’t sure and, right now, he couldn’t bear it. “Ugh, _nooo!_ ”, Crowley groaned and switched the radio off again. As if he wasn’t feeling miserable enough already. He swerved, trying to hit a pigeon and missing it.

A short while later, Crowley found himself in his flat. For a moment, he just stood there, feeling strangely lost and numb. Then, he sighed, deflated a little and skulked into his plant room. The plants greeted him with the usual fearful quiver in the air. _Good_. At least one part where he hadn’t failed, where he’d managed to live up to proper demonic expectations. They were as afraid of him as always. He began misting them, inspecting the leaves carefully, searching for any spots. There were none, not this time, and he felt almost disappointed. Letting off some steam and taking it out on the plants had felt like a good idea.

But then he just sighed and shook his head. _Who are you trying to fool? Playing God? Because that’s what you’re doing…and those plants…well…you treat them like the Almighty treated you. Behave or be punished. No second chances. First offence, you get the boot. Kicked out like garbage. Abandoned. Destroyed. Unloved. Unforgiven and unforgiveable. Stop blaming the angel, it’s not his fault. You are what you are. And you most definitely don’t deserve him. You’ve been a dreadful failure as an angel, now buck up, you’re way better at being a demon at least. It’s what you’re good at, what you’re meant to be. Well…_ Crowley sighed again. The sudden vibration of his phone ringing almost made him jump. He groaned in annoyance, but pulled it out anyway. It was Aziraphale. “No. Not now, Angel. Sorry.” The demon pressed the red telephone button and put the phone back in his pocket. Somehow, he felt terribly exhausted, emotionally. _Time for a good nap_ , he decided.

Aziraphale wasn’t too worried when Crowley denied his call. It was understandable, after all. He’d hurt his friend – his best friend – and not for the first time. And all because of his own foolish insecurities. He tried calling the demon again the next day, but his mobile phone seemed to be switched off and the landline only went to the ansaphone. Aziraphale hung up, not sure what to say. He didn’t really feel inclined to talk to that machine. Well, if Crowley didn’t pick up, then maybe it was about time that he came over and apologised in person. Usually, it was the demon coming back to him – maybe it was time to change that. “I certainly won’t let Gabriel and his words put a wall between us”, he said to himself with determination.

And thus, the angel found himself in front of the door to Crowley’s flat once again, a bottle of single malt Scotch and a box of chocolates in hand. He steeled himself and rang the bell. For a while, nothing happened, and Aziraphale was already beginning to fear that Crowley wouldn’t open the door, when, suddenly, it was pulled open. The demon was wrapped in a blanket, his feet bare, no sunglasses, hair a tousled mess, and it seemed that he was wearing his pyjamas underneath that blanket. “Aziraphale…?” Crowley blinked slowly at him. “Oh…you were sleeping? I…erm…Crowley, listen, I…I wanted to apologise. I…You’re my friend – my _best_ friend – and…I’ve hurt you…I was dreadful to you, I treated you abysmally, I shouldn’t have said those things…”

Crowley just stared at the angel who was visibly fidgety and embarrassed and seemed quite stricken. The demon closed his eyes for a moment and slightly shook his head. “’s alright, Angel…After all, it’s true, I am a demon…It’s fine…” But Aziraphale protested: “No, it’s not fine. I was…struggling with something and I took it out on you. I really shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t deserve that. And…I should have been better than that. It’s…not very angelic of me at all, I’m afraid. Snapping at you like that, for no reason.” Crowley gave him a slight smirk. “Well…I forgive you, Angel…”. The irony wasn’t lost on Aziraphale, either. The angel replied with a soft laugh, visibly grateful. “Oh, you do? Oh, my dear…Thank you…” But Crowley just waved it off. “Well…you wanna come in now or will ya just keep standing there? And…I assume you brought that bottle as a peace-offering? Good choice…” Aziraphale smiled at him gratefully and followed him inside.

“I…actually didn’t mind you using me as…well…as a pillow…I did mind the hangover, the headache, you know…but not that…I mean…that’s what friends are for, right? Comforting each other…?” Aziraphale was well aware that he was blushing up to the roots of his hair. He was nursing a cup of tea, while Crowley was sipping his coffee. “Ngk…”, said Crowley, and the angel noticed that his friend was blushing just as furiously as he himself was. “What…what I meant to say was…well…I didn’t mind…I…Actually, I thought it was quite…comfy…” This wasn’t making it any better. Crowley tried to say something, but only managed to stutter out some consonants, sinking deeper into the sofa. Had the angel really just implied that he’d actually _liked_ the unintentional snuggling?

“Well…”, Aziraphale finally said, picking up one of the chocolates from the box he’d brought. That box was now resting open on the table, some of the chocolates already gone. Having chosen another one, he popped it into his mouth and then used it as a diversion. “These are quite delicious, don’t you think? Glad I picked something nice…for a nice demon…”, he added with a grin. “’m not nice…”, Crowley grumbled from the depths of the sofa, but both knew that Aziraphale was just deliberately teasing him right now. The angel grinned even wider, relieved that they were back on track. He still wanted to slap himself for letting Gabriel’s words get to him like that, but relief was beginning to win out over his insecurity as well as his bad conscience. “Course you’re not. Big, bad wily old serpent you are”, the angel retorted with a chuckle. “Bastard”, came Crowley’s reply, accompanied by a smirk, “and here I was, forgiving you…” With that, he sat up, leaned forward and grabbed one of the chocolates himself. “We’re two terribly foolish idiots, aren’t we?”, the angel said with a slight shake of his head. Crowley just snorted. “Well, guess we both overreacted a bit”, he admitted. “You’re right, by the way…Very nice chocolates, Angel.”

Finally, to their mutual relief, they were back to their usual easy-going banter. “What would you say to…going out for a bit of flying?”, Crowley finally ventured after some contemplation. The angel raised his eyebrows, looking at him in surprise. “You want to go flying?” “Uh…yeah…I mean…with both Heaven and Hell leaving us alone for now and both your wing and my wings back to the way they’re supposed to be…I mean…I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been up in the air for quite a while…Might be nice to give our wings a good stretch, see if they’re working properly again…” Aziraphale thought about it for a while. Crowley was right, he thought – it had been a rather long time since his own last flight, too. And if he was being honest with himself, he’d been longing for the sky for quite a while.

Flying with Crowley? Well, they hadn’t really done this together, at least not in the last few centuries and not without the constant fear of being seen by any of their respective bosses or colleagues…but it sounded like a marvellous way to fully reconcile after that stupid fight of theirs. “Well…yes, I guess you’re right…We’d…just have to make sure that the humans won’t see us…They might get rather startled, you know…” The demon just grinned: “You’re giving me ideas here, Angel…Might be fun, scaring some humans…” But Aziraphale gave him a stern look. “Don’t you dare, Crowley! I’m not going to have you wiling and messing about with humans if we’re going to do this together.” “Well…you can always thwart my wiles, Angel. So…Shall we, then? Any destination in mind?” The angel smiled. “Oh, I _will_ thwart your wiles, trust me on that…Hmm…destination? I don’t know, my dear, maybe let’s just fly towards the coast and see where the wind takes us?” Crowley cocked his head, but then he nodded: “Sounds great, Angel!”

Not half an hour later, anyone watching the skies really, really closely might have felt or even seen something strange in the air…a flickering, just as if there was something going on up there that was…just oddly out of view. Meanwhile, an angel and a demon were flying over London, quickly leaving the city behind them. Thanks to a miracle, no humans would be able to clearly see them, at least if they didn’t get too close. Crowley contemplated scaring the passengers of an airplane taking off by flying along right next to it, but Aziraphale just gave him a stern look and shook his head. The demon rolled his eyes, but after they’d only just reconciled, he didn’t want to start another argument, so he relented and returned closer to the angel instead.

They were flying southwards, following the sun and chasing each other through the clouds. For a moment, Aziraphale just closed his eyes happily, enjoying the way the wind swept across his face and over his feathers, ruffling his curly hair and carrying him safely. He’d been flying a little ahead of Crowley, but now he heard another pair of wings apart from his own, just below him. He opened his eyes and looked down, only to see the demon smirking back up at him, flying on his back. “Wing alright, Angel?”, he asked. “Oh, perfectly! Just as if it had never been damaged in any way…Thank you, my dear…What about yours? All fine?” Crowley chuckled. “Well, as you’d probably say, ‘tip top’! Thanks for that, Angel!” With that, he pulled his wings in a bit, flipped sideways so that he was flying the right way round again, and then pulled his wings really close to his body and shot downwards like a falcon. “Crowley!”, the angel called after him, not entirely sure if he should be worried or not. He didn’t hesitate, though, pulled his own wings in and followed.

Aziraphale almost collided with Crowley, when the demon suddenly opened his wings and swept upwards again, laughing. “Watch out!”, the angel called after him, shaking his head, but then he began to laugh as well, somersaulting through the air as he did so. Waiting for the angel to catch up with him, Crowley spiralled a bit through the sky. Once Aziraphale was close enough, they both just flew side by side for a while, letting the wind carry them onwards. By now, they were well over Sussex and were quite close to the coast. Brighton wasn’t far off. There were dreamy little villages here and there, scattered over the hills and valleys of the South Downs.

Somewhere down below, there was an old ruin of what had probably once been a church. Crowley swooped down, with Aziraphale following close behind, and he landed on what remained of the roof. “No problems with consecrated ground?”, the angel asked as he landed. But the demon just plopped down on the roof, feet dangling, and shrugged. “Nah, if this really was a church once, that’s all long gone and forgotten…out of use, ya know…And anyway, ‘m technically not touching the ground, so…” Aziraphale settled down beside him. “I see…”, he muttered, before letting his gaze wander over the landscape surrounding them. “This is beautiful, Crowley, don’t you think? What a lovely area!” The demon beside him just hummed in agreement.

They remained there for quite some time, watching the sun slowly beginning to set, tinting the sky and the clouds in orange, purple, pink and flaming scarlet. “Maybe we should’ve brought a bottle”, Crowley finally mused. “Well…we could always come back here again if the city gets a bit too busy and we need some peace and quiet”, Aziraphale suggested. Crowley cast him a strange look – partly amused, partly surprised, and partly something else that the angel couldn’t quite place. “And you mean we can bring along a bottle next time? Sounds fine with me”, he replied. Aziraphale let out a soft giggle. “What?” “Well, my dear”, the angel explained, “I was just thinking that we could also bring along food…Maybe have a picnic or something…” Crowley snorted. “Up here? And you want me to carry a blessed picnic hamper while flying? Seriously?” The angel laughed heartily at the idea, with Crowley quickly joining in. “Well, anyway”, Aziraphale finally managed, still wheezing slightly and wiping some tears from his eyes, “I do think we should return to this area some time.” Crowley sighed. “Yeah…seems, we’re on the same page here, Aziraphale. Definitely a place to keep in mind.” They stayed until the sun had set, watching the first stars appear in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If they weren't as awkward and just talked to each other properly...but well...  
> But this way, they ended up flying together and...ending up somewhere they might just want to return to, some day...  
> And yes, I'm quite convinced that Crowley treats his plants the way he does as a bit of a coping mechanism to deal with his own issues. Just as I'm convinced that the Bentley is very sentient indeed...


	18. Stay with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first: This ends with a major cliffhanger! So, in case you don't want to torture yourself, you may want to wait until I upload the next chapter (around Wednesday, I reckon). Also: Things are getting a bit bloody and somewhat intense...
> 
> While Crowley and Aziraphale have fully reconciled and are enjoying their freedom from Heaven and Hell, they are quite unaware that Hastur is still planning on getting his revenge for Crowley killing Ligur. And Hastur is prepared to do whatever it takes. While things don't go quite as he intended, they still go very wrong for Crowley and Aziraphale and might just cost the demon his life...

After flying southwards to the coast together, Crowley and Aziraphale had fully reconciled, their conflict forgotten for good. With neither Heaven nor Hell making any move, things easily returned to normal within no time. Aziraphale was still waiting, half-heartedly, for some sort of update from Heaven concerning their abduction and whoever was behind it, but he was also used to Heaven taking long (very long) periods of time for things like these. That was, if Heaven bothered letting him know at all. He usually just sighed and shook it off whenever his thoughts returned to this issue. As for Hell, Crowley seemed quite convinced that the result of their latest run-in with Downstairs would be that they’d most definitely be left alone, at least for a lengthy period of time. “Until they’ve forgotten that they’re supposed to be afraid of us”, the demon quipped with a grin, when Aziraphale asked him once again. So, over the next few days things had returned to normal, except that they were rather a bit more relaxed than before.

One day, both demon and angel found themselves in a quaint little Spanish restaurant, chatting and bickering over tapas and a shared pitcher of sangria. While they were talking to each other, Aziraphale sent a blessing out to the young couple a few tables over and another to the family at the table right at the back, while Crowley tempted the three young women seated at another table to order another pitcher of sangria, even though they were already rather inebriated. He also tempted the older couple sitting at another table to choose the more expensive wine and felt in quite a bit of a spree right now. With a grin, he looked over at the angel sitting opposite him and currently studying the part of the menu with the desserts. “Sooo…”, he drawled, “what now, Angel? Any dessert?” Aziraphale sighed. “Well…it’s quite a difficult choice, really…I mean…I’d love the Crema Catalana, but that caramel pudding also sounds absolutely scrumptious…” He pondered for a while, but then, an idea hit him: “Crowley, what about…? Why don’t you order the one and I order the other and we share?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows in amusement, but he shook his head, still smirking. “Nah, no way, Angel, I’ve already got the dates with bacon…” To make his point, he put one of the dates in his mouth, offering another to the angel…who just couldn’t say no to that, either. “Well, they are most certainly delicious, my dear, but…I still don’t know what to choose for dessert…” When Crowley just watched him, one eyebrow quirked and an amused smirk on his face, the angel sighed. “You’re no help, are you?” “Well…I’d say, why don’t you just order both?” Aziraphale stared back at him. “Crowley…that would be rather greedy, wouldn’t it? I mean…I can’t just order two desserts just for myself…can I?” “Well, if ya make me order one, it’ll be the same end result, Angel, you’ll just steal my food and eat both desserts anyway, so why don’t ya just go ahead and order two desserts for yourself to start with?” Aziraphale frowned. “I don’t steal food…at least…not always”, he muttered, sulking a little. “You do, Angel, and ya know it. Not that I mind. But…c’mon, what’s the point? Wanna make yourself look better by ordering only one? C’mon, you want both, then go on and order both. I’ll even let you give me a spoonful of both to let me try. Just order both. We both know you want to…”

The angel cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you…trying to tempt me?” The broad grin he got as an answer was enough of a confirmation. “Crowley…I’m an angel…” “Yup, and I’m tempting you to do what you like and order those two desserts, for He-…for Somebody’s sake…So? Just tell me, why wouldn’t you? What’s worse? Ordering both and appearing…well…just a teeny, tiny bit greedy, or ordering one, forcing me to order the other and then stealing it from me?” Aziraphale slowly shook his head. “So…you’re arguing that…I should do the lesser evil? Taking it upon myself and appear greedy instead of not only forcing you into something you don’t want, but also taking what’s supposed to be yours? But…wouldn’t that be…tempting me to do something good? Which…you shouldn’t have to in the first place, since I’m an angel…But…well, alright, I agree with you!” The angel laughed and, since the waiter was just passing by, he jumped at the opportunity and promptly ordered both desserts, settling back down afterwards with a pleased grin. “Well, temptation accomplished, my dear…”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, but then he smirked. “Wait…Ya think I’ve tempted you to do the lesser evil? Nah, def’nitely not! I mean…look at it this way, Angel: Stealing is a sin, yes, and so is coercion…but…well, gluttony is definitely one of the big seven, ya know? So…yes, temptation accomplished! Ha! Gotcha!” Aziraphale stared back at him, open-mouthed. Had Crowley really planned it this way or just twisted this line of argument to his advantage? But then, that would mean that, no matter what Aziraphale had chosen to do, he’d have lost this game. He huffed. “You wily old serpent! Alright, alright, you got me. Fine.” Crowley grinned smugly. “Means une point for moi, zero for you…” He sounded way too pleased with himself. Aziraphale shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Oh dear…well, but at any rate, this is still all your fault, after all. No matter what I’d have done, it would be your fault, since you’re the one who tempted me to do it…”

Crowley laughed, before he stated: “‘Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?’” Aziraphale stared at him in surprise, but then he shook his head once again with a soft giggle. “You keep saying you don’t read, and yet, here you are, quoting Shakespeare at me, you foul fiend…” “Well…I didn’t say I don’t – well…yeah, technically, I _did_ say that I don’t read, but…weeell, y’know how it is…In comparison with you an’ all that…” The angel raised his eyebrows but still smiled at him fondly. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t use me as a standard here…I do read rather a lot, I fancy…and…well, since it’s not that easy for you…” “Oh, ssstop it…” Crowley felt somewhat embarrassed. He had no inclination to talk about his eyes again. “Of course, I’ve read the classics an’ all that stuff. So, fine, go on, shoot me”, he grumbled. The angel shook his head, still smiling. “It’s alright, dear. And…the offer still stands – I could read for you if you like.” The demon huffed, rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Shut up”, came his obviously fond reply.

That very moment, the waiter returned with both the Crema Catalana and the caramel pudding. Aziraphale gave him a polite, friendly smile which lit up even more when he looked at the desserts. Crowley just smirked. The angel wiggled in delight, took a first bite of the Crema Catalana and closed his eyes in bliss, humming appreciatively. Crowley just stared at him, trying very hard to pull himself together. Those little noises the angel was making almost made him forget how to breathe. “Oh good Lord, Crowley, this is absolutely divine! You _have_ to try this!” The demon needed a moment to process the fact that a spoon full of Crema Catalana was pushed towards him and that Aziraphale was talking to him. What had the angel just said? He wanted to ask, but all he managed was a string of noises with the vague lilt of a question in the end. “Come on, you promised I could let you try it, and you definitely have to. It’s simply marvellous”, the angel insisted. This time, Crowley understood his words. “Uh…’kay…fair enough…”, he muttered and accepted the spoonful. It was indeed delicious, but not half as entrancing as watching Aziraphale enjoy it.

The caramel pudding was apparently equally as delicious in Aziraphale’s eyes, even though he thought that if he was forced to choose, his personal preference would have been rather for the Crema Catalana – the crusted, burnt sugar on top, mingling the sweetness of the cream with just a hint of crunchy tartness was just too exquisite of a combination. When he hinted at that, Crowley agreed but argued that the caramel pudding was just something else altogether, all soft and sweet. Aziraphale smiled warmly, though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this revelation. They finished their pitcher of sangria, the final remainders of their tapas and (in Aziraphale’s case) the dessert and then decided that, even though it had drizzled before, the weather looked nice enough now for a stroll through the park.

* * *

Hastur was smiling. It wasn’t often that the Duke of Hell smiled – even less so since Ligur was gone – and it never meant anything good. But he was smiling now – in fact, rather broadly. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt that pleased with himself. Certainly not since Ligur’s…murder. His mood had reached a new low when the assassin they’d sent after the Serpent had found his sudden demise, too. Holy Water yet again. And Beelzebub had made it very clear that Hell would not make another attempt. Well, but Hastur would certainly not let this stand. The failed Apocalypse and the treason, that was one thing, but for him, this was personal. It mattered on another level to him than to Beelzebub or Dagon…or even Satan himself. If Hell wouldn’t go and officially avenge one of their finest demon’s murder, Hastur felt obligated to handle things himself. So what if that flash bastard was immune to Holy Water? There were other ways. Other ways to make him suffer.

Since the last failed attempt, Hastur had been making plans of his own. He knew that Beelzebub had forbidden anyone to take any further steps, and he was very aware of what awaited him if he was found out. Or if he failed. If he succeeded, well, things might look different, despite him disobeying explicit orders. If he succeeded, perhaps all Hell and Heaven would get what they wanted after all – and Hastur would get his revenge. And that latter bit was really all that mattered to him. Since Ligur was gone, Hell just wasn’t the same. It was…literally Hell. Hastur knew who was to blame, he’d seen it with his own eyes, after all – and he just couldn’t, wouldn’t accept that that slick bastard should get away with it. Indestructible? Well, he’d see about that…and even if that was the case, there was one thing Hastur knew: There were worse things than death. It had taken some discreet inquiries and some bullying and intimidation (well, admittedly, a lot of the latter), but he’d finally succeeded in acquiring what he wanted. He smiled again, his fingers gently tracing the cool metal of the gun he was holding. Time to go up to Earth…and do some proper lurking.

* * *

Crowley and Aziraphale were strolling through the park, the angel casting a sideways glance at the demon, who was sauntering along beside him with his usual swagger. “I wonder why we’re even still doing this…I mean…especially you…” Crowley frowned at that. “What d’ya mean, Angel?” “Well…tempting people. Don’t think I didn’t notice – you’ve tempted quite a few of the other guests. And…well…you know you don’t have to any more – after all, we’re pretty much…retired, in a way…” Crowley looked at the angel with confusion written all over his face. He shook his head. “Wait a minute. I could ask you the same question: Why did _you_ bless some of those people in there? Since we’re, as you say, retired…” Aziraphale shrugged. “Well, it’s a nice thing to do. And…it…it feels good to make people happy. To do good.” Crowley smirked. “Yeah, it might. But…it’s also nice to cause just a bit of trouble and chaos and…help them indulge themselves, ya know? So why should I stop? Why should you stop? Guess even if we’re…well…out of work, in a way, we’re still pretty much the only demon and angel permanently living here on Earth, so…why shouldn’t we just continue as we always did?” Aziraphale frowned, pondering Crowley’s arguments. Finally, he nodded. “You know, I guess I’m quite inclined to agree with you for once. We’ll probably continue to cancel each other out, then…but this way, I guess, it will all remain in balance…” Crowley gave him a smug smile as they continued their stroll through the park.

* * *

Hastur was lurking behind some shrubs. No people around – perfect. All he had to do was wait. Wait for the perfect moment. He wasn’t quite sure how much time he’d have until someone Downstairs would notice that he was gone – and that he’d stolen something. Of course, he’d be in major trouble, even if he succeeded. _No, no ‘if’ here, I_ will _succeed_ , he thought. And so what if he was punished? All that mattered to him was making that flash bastard suffer. That would be worth whatever punishment awaited Hastur for disobeying. He’d gladly pay that price, no regrets, no remorse, no second thoughts. He noticed that his fingers were shaking ever so slightly, as he absentmindedly caressed the cool metal of the gun he was holding. This had to work – he was absolutely certain that the two beings he was waiting for were in this park and would eventually pass by here. And even if they were immune to Holy Water and Hellfire, it wouldn’t matter this time. There were other ways to dispose of someone – and other ways to cause suffering. Hastur did his best to make his own aura appear as small as he possibly could – after all, he had no intentions of giving himself away and tipping either the Serpent or that foolish angel off. _Oh, there they are! Perfect_ , he thought, his black eyes sparkling with excitement and a nasty grin appearing on his face. All he had to do now was aim and wait for the right moment…

* * *

They’d reached the entrance of the park. It was a quiet day, somehow. Hardly any people outside. Aziraphale wondered if it was the earlier drizzle that had scared them off or the unusual hour – early afternoon, most people were probably working. But it struck him nonetheless – normally, something as minor as a slight drizzle wouldn’t scare any reasonable person off, after all. And yet…it was quite nice to have the park almost to themselves. He pointed that out to Crowley, chattering away happily and leaving the demon a few steps behind him.

Crowley stood still for a moment and gave the angel a lopsided grin. When Aziraphale just continued walking and rambling, he merely chuckled, shook his head with a fond smile and followed him. But then, suddenly, he frowned. Something was wrong, he could sense it. Something _smelled_ wrong. Alarm bells went off in his mind as he looked around, scanning the area around them. And then, he saw it. Saw him. _Shit_. Crowley reacted on instinct, lunging for Aziraphale and pushing him down to the ground. There was a noise of sorts, a muffled bang.

Aziraphale let out a startled yelp as he fell. He landed hard on his hands and knees, bruising them and ripping his trousers in the process. After the first shock, he tried to scramble back up, wincing slightly and using a little miracle to heal his hands and knees and fix the torn knees of his trousers. “Crowley! Really! This is the second time in not even a month that you’ve pushed me…”, he began indignantly as he turned around, but his voice quickly died in his throat as his gaze fell on the demon he was addressing. Crowley was crouched on the ground as well, his hand pressed against his stomach, breathing way too quickly, his sunglasses fallen off somewhere on the ground. What startled Aziraphale the most, however, wasn’t even the blood seeping through between the demon’s fingers – deep red with swirls of black instead of angelic gold. No, what truly unnerved Aziraphale were Crowley’s eyes: Fully blown yellow and the pupils, normally just slits, gone wide with shock. “Crowley…?”, Aziraphale managed, his voice shaking. “Ssssorry, Angel…I wasss too ssslow…” With that, the demon slumped to the ground, gasping for breath and in obvious pain.

It seemed to Aziraphale that time was slowing down somehow and that he just kept staring in shock, but in fact, he scrambled over to Crowley in an instant. “Oh good Lord”, he muttered, trying to assess the damage. He hardly noticed how much he was shaking. “Let me see…It’s alright, it’s gonna be fine…I’m just going to fix this…”, the angel tried to reassure Crowley as well as himself. He placed his own hand just over Crowley’s, sending out a healing miracle…but nothing happened. He tried again. Again, nothing happened. “Why…why isn’t it working?”, he stammered, panic gripping him. Crowley looked up at him with something close to a sad smile. “S-sssorry, ‘ngel…’m ‘fraid thisss…’sss rather miracle-proof…”, the demon finally managed. Aziraphale just shook his head in disbelief, his eyes wide. If this was miracle-proof, then that meant in all probability that whatever weapon had caused this was made specifically to destroy any supernatural beings. Destroy, not just discorporate. The latter would already be bad enough, but…the more likely alternative was even worse. Way worse. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. “N-no…no…there…there must be something that can be done…”

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, apparently struggling through the pain. “M-maybe…maybe human medicine…”, he ventured. Aziraphale was immediately grasping for that offered straw. “Right. Humans. Jolly good. I…I’ll get help…”, he muttered, preparing to jump up at once, when Crowley grabbed his wrist with a surprisingly vice-like grip and stared at him pleadingly. “N-no…don’t leave me…pleassse…ssstay…” The angel stared back at him. He’d hardly ever seen Crowley actually begging him with such panicked despair. “Alright…b-but…I was going to get help…”, he tried to object. A shudder went through the demon and he closed his eyes for a moment. “Ngk…ambulance…c-call…call an ambulance…” His voice was hardly more than a whisper. In his own panic, Aziraphale hadn’t even considered this. Now, he wanted to kick himself _. ‘How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid’_. He could still hear Crowley’s words. Oh, how he wished the demon would sound as snarky now as he had back then! “Right…yes…call the ambulance…Wh-where…where’s your phone?” “Jacket pocket”, Crowley managed through gritted teeth.

The angel nodded and had the phone out in an instant – only to stare at the screen helplessly. “How do I unlock this damned thing?” “4-0-0-4”, Crowley replied, causing Aziraphale to stop short for a moment. “What? But…that’s the year…?” “Yessss…not very sssubtle…I know…” Crowley’s immediate interruption brought Aziraphale back to the here and now and the urgent matter at hand. He could still wonder later on why Crowley would choose the year when it all began as a lock screen code. But then, maybe the answer was obvious. He struggled with the phone for a moment, mumbling to himself, but he got the hang of it quickly enough and dialled 999.

A woman answered his call and politely guided him through all the necessary questions, after he’d just blurted out in his panic that his…well, his what? His best friend had been…shot or something and that they needed help. Immediately. Like, right now. And that it was urgent. She tried her best to get the angel to calm down at least a little and to tell her where exactly they were and all that. Aziraphale did his best to describe their exact location and what had happened – as much as he knew, at least – and listened to what she told him. Eventually, he put the phone down, absentmindedly slipping it into his own pocket, and turned back to Crowley: “Alright, they’re sending someone. They should be here soon, she said…And…she said I should…try and keep you awake…and…” Somehow, just looking at the demon’s terribly pale face, Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to keep on talking about whatever the woman had said. Crowley hardly nodded at what he had to say. The angel leaned over him, putting his own hand atop Crowley’s and pressing down in an attempt to at least slow down the bleeding. The growing dark pool beneath the demon was rather disconcerting. Crowley whimpered slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

“Crowley?” This, at least, finally made the demon open his eyes again. “You have to stay awake, you hear me? They’ll be here soon, it’s gonna be fine.” “Tryin’…”, Crowley muttered, “Sss-sso ssssorry, ‘zir’phale…D-didn’t m-mean to…” “Hey, it’s alright, this is not your fault, my dear…It’s gonna be alright, you’ll be fine”, the angel tried to reassure him – and reassure himself, too. Crowley closed his eyes again. “’m cold, ‘ngel…’m I…sss-ss’pposed to be thisss c-cold…?” It was only now that Aziraphale realised how much Crowley was shaking. Up to now, he’d assumed it was because of the shock and pain, but he also noticed that Crowley’s hand beneath his own was like ice. He frowned and shook his head: “I don’t know…I don’t think so”. With that, he took off his own coat and placed it over the demon. And if it got soaked through with blood, well, so be it. Crowley looked up at him again, his eyes alarmingly glassy, and he gave the angel a weak smile. “Th’nksss…”, he whispered.

Crowley was struggling to remain conscious, but he felt that he was beginning to lose that fight. Still, seeing Aziraphale’s worried, scared face, eyes shimmering with tears, he felt that he needed to do at least something to reassure and comfort the angel somehow. He thought that if he’d have to go, then doing so with the angel’s face being the last thing he’d ever get to see, it would be alright. It would be more than he’d have expected. More than he deserved, for sure. A last wish fulfilled. But he couldn’t say that to Aziraphale – that would only unsettle the angel even more, wouldn’t it? It became more and more difficult to focus. What was Aziraphale saying? Telling him to stay awake? He just sighed and tried to smile. “’ss alright, ‘ngel…”, he whispered, closing his eyes. He’d wanted to reach out for Aziraphale, but realised that he didn’t have enough strength left to lift his hand. Aziraphale sniffed, tears finally running down his cheeks. “No! No, it’s not alright! Not at all. I…You said _I_ shouldn’t leave _you_ , now please don’t leave _me!_ Don’t you dare! Don’t go where I can’t follow you, you wily serpent! I…I need you…I…I lov-” Aziraphale didn’t get to finish his sentence – and he couldn’t be sure if Crowley could still hear him at all, anyway – because in that same moment, he noticed a siren in the distance, quickly coming towards them.

* * *

Hastur hadn’t bothered to stick around to witness any of what happened after he fired his shot. He’d fled the scene as quickly as he could, returning back to Hell in the hope that no one Downstairs had noticed his absence – or the fact that he’d stolen that very specific gun…or rather, the gun and its very specific ammunition. Things hadn’t turned out quite the way he’d intended. In fact, he’d aimed at the angel, his intention being to make that unsufferable Snake suffer. To break him. To take his precious angel from him, kill the angel right in front of his eyes, leaving Crawly absolutely helpless and with no chance to fix things. Making the Serpent go through what Hastur himself had gone through and more than that. Sort of.

Hastur certainly had never been all dovey-eyed with Ligur, after all. And he certainly hadn’t expected Mr Slick to react like _this_. He himself certainly wouldn’t have done this. How stupid! Risk his own life for someone else? Stupid. He wouldn’t have done this, not even for Ligur. But well, Hastur wouldn’t complain. Instead of killing an angel and very probably getting into serious trouble for it, he’d instead hit that flash bastard jumping in the way. A demon killing another demon, that was a capital offence, but killing an angel without provocation was likely to cause trouble with Heaven as well as Hell. And while Hastur had wanted Crawly to suffer eternally rather than just die…well, knowing that he was most likely dead by now was somehow rather satisfying as well. Hastur smiled to himself. “Hastur. Where’ve you been? And what is that?” He froze. When he turned around, he looked into Dagon’s expectant face, way too close for his liking. _Oh, holy crap_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, folks! Mean cliffhanger, I know! But I said there will be a happy ending, so...  
> Crowley's Shakespeare quote is from "Measure for Measure", Act II, Scene 2. He said he preferred the funny ones, and even though this is a bit of a problem-case, it's at least listed under the comedies. And well, poor demon quite forgets himself when he watches his angel eat something. And yes, the pudding obviously reminds Crowley of Aziraphale.  
> And yes, the lock screen code is the same Crowley uses for his safe. Not very subtle indeed...


	19. A Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Crowley's rather close brugh with death, both demon and angel find themselves in a hospital room, with enough time to talk about what actually happened in the park...

Aziraphale was sitting on a chair against the wall of that quiet room, a small table beside him, with some books that he’d miracled over and then had quite forgotten about. Or rather not forgotten, but he just couldn’t muster up enough concentration to read, which was a very uncommon thing for him. Instead, he kept watching the bed he was facing – and the pale figure lying in it. The shock of messy red hair was truly the only splash of colour in all that pale whiteness. The angel sighed softly and thought back to the chaotic, nerve-wrecking last few hours.

It had taken a rather considerable miracle to make sure that neither the paramedics nor anyone at the hospital would notice anything…off about Crowley. Anything not quite human. It had taken another miracle to convince them to take the angel to the hospital with them, frantic as he was, but once they’d arrived there, he’d been put in a waiting room. And he’d waited…and waited. He’d been pacing for what felt like an eternity, trying very hard to remain calm and to fight back any surge of re-emerging panic. Whenever the door had opened, he’d jumped, but after the third time or so of this happening, his reactions had begun to dull quite a bit. Thus, at first he hadn’t even reacted when a female voice had called his name – or rather, his earthly alias, Mr Fell. She’d had to repeat it for him to turn around and stare at her, wide-eyed like a doe caught in the headlights. The woman had then given him an encouraging smile, introduced herself as a doctor and informed him that they’d managed to save Crowley’s life _. He’s alive. Thank God, he’s alive_ had been the only thing going through the angel’s mind while the doctor was still talking to him, giving him a more detailed account of it all. He’d had a hard time actually listening to her through the hazy wave of shocked relief.

“He’s been very lucky. He’s lost a lot of blood, but all things considered, he should make a full recovery, it’ll just take some time. Very lucky indeed – just a little later and he probably would’ve been beyond our aid. Are you sure you don’t want to inform the police?” She’d seemed concerned, understandably, but Aziraphale had just sighed in relief and shaken his head, raising his hands in a placating manner. “Oh, thank God…and…well, thank _you_ …But…no, no police. I doubt they’d be of any help…” It had taken another miracle to convince the doctor of that, and yet another to allow the angel to just simply stay with Crowley. “Just don’t mind me”, he’d said. “He’ll need rest”, the doctor had objected, but Aziraphale had managed to miraculously convince her that it would most definitely be way more unsettling for Crowley if he woke up alone. And so, here Aziraphale was, sitting in his chair and waiting. He’d used the time for some more miracles, making all the blood disappear from his coat as well as that spot in the park, among other things. _‘Frivolous miracles’? Well, bugger that!_ Now, all the angel could do was wait.

The first thing Crowley became aware of was that he was feeling strangely fuzzy…a little bit as if he’d had too much to drink and forgotten to sober up. But that wasn’t quite it. Slowly, he tried to open his eyes, blinking and squinting at an unfamiliar ceiling. He needed some time to get his eyes to focus on it – well, focus at least somewhat. “’ngel…”, he finally managed – and hardly recognised that hoarse croak as his own voice. He hadn’t really expected a reply and was quite surprised when he heard the angel’s voice instantly: “Oh, you’re awake!” With some effort, the demon managed to turn his head to the right, where Aziraphale’s voice had come from. And there he was – the angel, looking at him with a rather odd expression on his face that Crowley couldn’t really make sense of. “Ssseemsss like it…”, he replied in a raspy whisper, still blinking and trying to focus, but nevertheless giving his best attempt at a lopsided grin.

“Do you want some water?”, the angel asked, and instead of straining his voice any further, Crowley just nodded. Aziraphale was at his side immediately, with a bottle of water with a straw in it. Crowley half-heartedly tried to sit up a bit, but found that he couldn’t. He was rather grateful for the straw – this way, at least he could drink something without actually having to move. “Thanksss…”, he muttered afterwards, sounding a bit more like himself again. _Good_ , he thought and sighed in relief. Aziraphale was still…watching him with that peculiar expression on his face…and…had the angel been crying? And where were they, anyway? He looked around a bit, trying to make sense of it all. It looked very much like a…hospital? But why…? The demon frowned and slightly his head. “Where are we, Angel? What happened?”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose up. “We…erm…we’re in a hospital…You…Actually, you’ve already asked me this once before…Don’t you remember?” Crowley’s confused expression was enough of an answer. “Well…I didn’t really think you would – you were…well…You just woke up briefly and weren’t quite…here yet, you know? But…yes…we’re in a hospital…Because…well…you…you’ve been…shot…sort of…Do you…erm…What _do_ you remember?” Crowley stared at him for a moment, frowning. He wasn’t really looking at Aziraphale, though – he was racking his brains, trying to remember, until it all slowly but surely began to come back to him. At least, now he knew why Aziraphale kept staring at him like that. “Oh shit”, he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment. But then he just sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I remember…At leassst…mossst of it, I reckon…” He felt too exhausted to bother about the hiss right now.

“Ssso…you managed to call the ambulance? Well…quite the life-sssaver ya are…Not very angelic of you…’m a demon, after all…” Crowley gave the angel what he hoped to be a good-humoured, cheeky grin, but then he added a very honest “thank you, Aziraphale”. The angel in question replied with a warm smile, relieved that Crowley was already back to trying to tease him. “Well…I’d say helping to save your…your best friend’s life is definitely angelic…and…I’m truly glad you’re alive, you know…They…they said it was…rather close, actually…They said you were very lucky…” “Lucky? Wouldn’t call thisss particularly lucky…”, Crowley objected, but Aziraphale insisted. “Well, you were. As I said, it was…a very close call. But they managed to…well…patch you up and said that you should fully recover, you’ll just…need some time to rest and heal…” “Huh…right…doessn’t ssound too bad then, I guessss…”, the demon admitted. Considering all things, he was fairly certain that he was indeed lucky to be alive at all.

Aziraphale moved the chair from the wall over to where he’d been standing beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”, he asked, worry still written all over his face. Crowley gave him a weak grin. “Perfect. Never felt better”, he quipped, but the angel just sighed and slightly rolled his eyes. “I was being serious, my dear…” The demon sighed as well. “Alright, alright, fine. ‘ve definitely felt better…but alsso worsse, sso…” Aziraphale just nodded, but then he remembered that Crowley had just told him that he remembered what had happened. And Aziraphale himself hadn’t seen who’d done this. Crowley, however, must have seen something. After all, he’d pushed Aziraphale. “Crowley…who…Do you know who…who did this to you?” The demon replied with something that seemed to be partly a huff and partly a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I do. Hasstur. That basstard.”

The angel stared at him. “What, that duke of Hell? So…Hell is still trying to murder you?!” Crowley raised both eyebrows in astonished amusement. “Hell? Murder me? Angel, uhm…no, actually I very much doubt that…Thiss…this wasn’t Hell…this was personal…I doubt anyone Downstairs had any idea that Hastur was even up here…” Finally, at least he had that hiss back under control. Aziraphale frowned. “But…he shot you…” But Crowley just sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “No…he…Actually, he was aiming at you…That’s why I shoved you to the ground…” “Me? But…why? I don’t even really know him…” Crowley sighed again. “As I said, this was personal. You…may remember that Hastur and Ligur came after me on the day of the…well…‘Apoca-didn’t’…and that I…disposed of Ligur…sorta…with…with the Holy Water you’d given me…?” When he saw the angel nod, he continued: “Ya see…Hastur never liked me…but after _that?_ See, if…if he was ever close to anyone, ‘t was prob’ly Ligur…and I killed him. So, pretty sure Hastur hates me with a vengeance now…”

Aziraphale frowned. “Well, my dear…that I can understand…to some extent…but…that still doesn’t explain why he’d try to shoot _me_ …” Crowley gave him a strange look and a somewhat bitter chuckle. “Well, I guess he figured just killing me wouldn’t be enough…Prob’ly wanted to hurt me as much as possible…See me suffer. Put me through what I did to him, in a way, killing his…companion. I killed Ligur, so…Hastur tried to kill you. An eye for an eye. Quid pro quo. Worse than death.” He swallowed, worrying that he might have just said too much. His current state was affecting him more than he cared to admit, even to himself, and reliving the panic he’d felt in the park the moment he’d realised what was going on wasn’t exactly helpful. Realisation dawned on Aziraphale when he noticed the way Crowley looked at him. There was still a strange, lingering trace of something close to horror in his serpentine eyes and the angel could only assume that Crowley must have felt something very similar to his own panic only moments later when he’d thought he was going to lose the demon. “Oh…”, Aziraphale just managed, but then he smiled warmly and put a comforting, gentle hand on his friend’s arm. Crowley seemed somewhat surprised for a second, but then he just smiled back gratefully.

The angel sighed. “You…So, the way I see it, this means that you…really saved my life there…and…almost lost your own in doing so…”, he said, his voice breaking as he finished the sentence. Crowley chuckled softly. “Well…the things we do for those we l-…care about, eh? Pretty foolish, one could argue…And…you certainly did your part saving me, so…guess we’re even…” Aziraphale just shook his head with a warm smile. “Doesn’t sound foolish to me at all, my dear…”, he said, gently squeezing the demon’s arm and eliciting another lopsided smile from him.

After a moment, however, Crowley frowned. “Angel…uhm…don’t get me wrong, ‘m glad you’re here…but… _why_ are you here?” Aziraphale shook his head. “Whatever do you mean, my dear boy?” “Well…I…I’m certainly not an expert on the topic, but ’m pretty sure that hospitals have…visiting hours? But…you’ve been here the whole time, haven’t you?” The angel blushed. The books on the table were a very obvious hint. “Oh…well…yes…I, erm…might have used a miracle or two to convince them to let me stay and…that there’s nothing unusual about you…” For a moment, the demon’s eyes grew wide at the last bit. Of course, the humans would have found out soon enough that he wasn’t quite human. He sighed. “Oh…thanks, Angel…” Aziraphale just smiled. “No problem…I also…warded this room, by the way…” Crowley just nodded with a tired smile.

For a moment, Aziraphale kept smiling at him, but then his expression turned somewhat grim. “Considering what you just told me, I’m quite glad that I warded this place. With some duke of Hell out on a vengeful killing spree…I certainly wouldn’t want him to try and come here, especially not with you in this current state…” Crowley huffed. “I don’t think you need to worry too much, Aziraphale…As I said, I highly doubt anyone Downstairs knew about this. If we’re lucky, he got caught and will prob’ly be punished accordingly. Wouldn’t want to be in his shoes in that case. And even if not, I doubt he’ll try this again. Prob’ly thinks I’m dead, anyway, so why should he bother?” The angel frowned. “Well…but he’ll surely find out that you’re still alive…I mean…eventually.” “And _eventually_ , I’ll hopefully be back to my old self by then, eh, Angel?”

Aziraphale sighed. He wasn’t entirely convinced, but there was nothing they could do about it at the moment. However, there was something else that didn’t quite make sense to him. “Crowley? You said he wanted to kill me…but…after he hit you, why…why didn’t he just kill me then if that was his true intention?” The demon took a deep breath before he replied: “Well…I guess…as I just said, he prob’ly thought I was dead anyway…or as good as…So…no point in it, right? Told ya, killing an angel unprovoked…and not just discorporating, but…actually fully…obliterating…”, the very thought made Crowley feel slightly sick, “That would surely get any demon in trouble not just with Hell…I mean…yeah, we’re out of employment, in a way, but…you’re still an angel. What d’ya think Heaven would say to a demon randomly destroying one of their own? Yes, both sides still want that blessed war, but Hell certainly won’t want to be viewed by both parties as the definite instigator of it all. So…’s only logical that Hastur abandoned that plan when he thought I’d be dead in a few moments anyway. Point of his revenge was making _me_ suffer – with me gone, well…” He just shrugged.

Aziraphale had gone somewhat pale. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a shuddering breath. Crowley’s words had reminded him all too well of how close he’d come to truly losing him. “Well…I’m certainly glad that he failed in his plans…and…I must admit, I hope he gets what he deserves for it.” Crowley looked up at him somewhat surprised, but the angel just smiled back at him. The demon just raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. He tried to shift a bit, grimacing and wincing slightly. Aziraphale cast him a concerned glance. “Are you in pain?” But Crowley just shook his head: “’s alright, Angel, I can manage…” He did look rather pale and exhausted, however, and the angel was quite certain that he wasn’t all that comfortable. _‘He’ll need rest’_ , the doctor had said. “Crowley, my dear…Look…You don’t have to manage, you know? They gave you some pain killers and you can have some more of those. Just need to press a button…” Crowley gave him a weak smile. “Will prob’ly make me sleep again, though, won’t it?” The angel just shrugged. “Probably, yes. But…that’s alright, I’ll be here. And…you know what they say, right? Sleep is the best medicine? And it’s something you like to indulge in anyway, so…” He smiled encouragingly at the demon. Crowley just sighed, giving in. “Alright, fine”, he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't seriously believe that I was going to let Crowley die, right? Honestly, I couldn't. Killing either of them would definitely break my heart...  
> Aziraphale still doesn't really seem to fully comprehend just how much he actually means to Crowley...they both still need some time...After Aziraphale almost said the l-word last time, this time it was Crowley, but for now, they are both still too scared...and Aziraphale's chat with Gabriel didn't help, either...But the angel certainly does get protective - I wouldn't want to be Hastur and face Aziraphale after this...  
> Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you like it! And sorry once again for the cliffhanger last time - but you were warned, after all...


	20. Not Exactly the Most Patient Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he's slowly recovering, Crowley is growing restless and keeps insisting that he wants to go home. He finally manages to talk Aziraphale into helping him, even though the angel has his doubts when Crowley tells him that he's quite capable of healing himself now. After all, you're not supposed to do that...

Crowley slept quite a lot, but he also clearly seemed to recover. It took time – far longer than any miracle, for sure, which annoyed the demon himself more than anyone else – but all in all, his condition improved steadily. Right now, he was poking rather listlessly at his lunch with the fork, scowling at it. “Uhm…do you want this, Angel?” Aziraphale looked up from the book he was reading, his own plate long empty. “Oh…well, erm…no, my dear, I really think _you_ should eat that…I know it’s not the Ritz, but…it will help you recover, you know?” Crowley sighed and rolled his eyes. “We don’t technically need any food, you know that, Angel…Besides…ya know I’m not that much of an eater, anyway…” Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to get somewhat annoyed. He shut the book with more force than was actually necessary and sighed, slightly exasperated. “I know, Crowley, but I also know that you know just as well as I do that you’re injured and that eating will help you to get your strength back. Your body can use some nourishment, you know?” The demon just groaned and rolled his eyes, but continued to eat obediently.

Now that he was beginning to feel better, Crowley wasn’t exactly an easy patient. “Ya know…I’d really like a drink to go with this…” The demon was back to staring at his food, rather unimpressed by it. Aziraphale shrugged and gave him a wry smile. “Well, I could offer you a bottle of water…or some tea?” The glare he got from the demon almost made him chuckle. “’s not what I meant and you know it. Something a bit more substantial would be nice. Bottle of wine, some Scotch…” The angel shook his head. “Well, I doubt that would be a good idea and you’ll most certainly not get that here, you fiend…” The demon let out another rather dramatic groan. “This is torture, Aziraphale! Worse than Hell! I wanna go home…” The angel sighed and shot him a sympathetic smile. “I know, my dear…” “I mean it, Angel. I’m sick o’ this place, I wanna go home.”

Aziraphale’s smile wavered. “Well…but…you…you’re still…”, he began to protest. After all, Crowley might be feeling better, but he was still a far cry from his usual self. The demon, however, cut him off: “I can do the rest of this myself just as well. ‘m sure I’ll heal way better at home than here…” With that, he moved to get up – only to almost fall out of bed. In fact, he would have fallen, had Aziraphale not reacted quickly enough and caught him. “Crowley, what are you doing? For God’s sake! You’re too weak to get up!” Placed back in bed, the demon groaned miserably. “Jusst felt dizzy…”, he protested quietly. “Of course you did…” Aziraphale gently patted his shoulder. Crowley sighed, looking rather miserable and pale. The angel tried his best at giving his friend an encouraging smile. “Just have some patience with yourself, my dear. Things like these take time. Get your strength back first, then we’ll go home. Promise.” The demon sighed once again, but he nodded. He was obviously far from happy about it, but he had to accept that there was nothing he could do about this right now. Aziraphale was right: In his current state, he wouldn’t have enough strength to heal himself. He’d have to wait a bit longer for that.

It didn’t take long for Crowley to grow impatient again. He’d asked for his phone soon enough and Aziraphale, who’d quite forgotten that he’d put it into his own coat pocket, had to look for it for a while until he found it and handed it over to the demon. Thus, Crowley’s latest pastime was playing on his phone – playing all those ridiculous games (quite a few of which he claimed being responsible for), messing with people on the internet and doing…whatever. Right now, he was half sitting, half lying in bed, reading something on the phone and squinting at the screen as he did so. “Did you know, Angel, that if you had a giant scale and you’d put all the ants of this world in the one pan and all the humans in the other, that the ants would actually outweigh the humans?” Aziraphale looked up from his book, wondering if he’d misheard. “Erm…what was that, my dear?” Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed slightly. “You’re not even listening to me, are ya? All the ants of this world taken together are heavier than all the humans.” “Is that so?” The demon shrugged. “Says so here…Just a trivia website…Dunno if it’s really true…”

Aziraphale got up and leaned over Crowley’s shoulder to look at the phone screen. “Well…It might be true, who knows? It’s rather astonishing, though, I’ll admit to that…”, he turned his gaze from the screen to Crowley, “but if you’re reading trivia websites now, I assume that means that you’re…a tad bored? I could read something to you if you like?” Crowley’s groan and eyeroll was rather discouraging, though, so Aziraphale just sighed and continued: “Look, I’m sorry you’re still stuck here, but you’re doing great…” Crowley, however, just groaned again and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t look just bored, he looked outright frustrated. “Told ya before, Angel, I wanna go home…And I mean it…” The angel sighed. “I know, Crowley, but…you’re still recovering. You know…you need to have patience…Any patient does – you know, that’s not a coincidence, it’s the same word, basically, if you look at the etymology…” “I know, I know, Angel! Believe it or not, I _know_ my Latin, I’ve _been_ there! Actually lived there! Asss you very well know! And don’t tell _me_ about having patience…”, Crowley snapped back at him, suddenly obviously annoyed.

Aziraphale raised his hands in a placating manner, and his concerned expression made the demon feel sorry instantly. Crowley sighed and slightly shook his head. “Sorry…didn’t mean to snap…Guess…when it comes to myself, I might not be as patient as with other…things…But…I do mean it. Feel fine enough now, ‘m sure I can do the rest at home…and I’d definitely feel much better there…” Aziraphale wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t quite certain what Crowley had in mind. Surely, in his current state, he was in good hands here. Better than in the bookshop or his flat where there was no human doctor or nurse around to take care of him if necessary. But as the angel voiced these concerns, the demon just stared at him with an odd expression before sighing and slowly shaking his head. “’s not what I meant, Angel…or rather…what I mean is…I think…uh…I guess I could prob’ly fix this myself now…”

If at all possible, Aziraphale’s expression became even more sceptical. “Crowley…what exactly _do_ you mean? You said this was miracle-proof…and… and it was! There was nothing I could do to fix it, I _tried_ …” He almost teared up, just remembering that moment. Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I know…It was…Was nothing either of us could’ve done…’s why Hastur chose that specific way to dispose of…well…you, as he’d planned. He didn’t want to take any chances of this going…wrong…A sure-fire way to kill any angel or demon, with no chance to fix it with any healing miracle…but…”, the memory once again made Crowley feel slightly sick, “but…the human doctors did a good job at fixing most of that…and…I do feel better now…so…I guess…well, I guess it should be possible now to…fix the rest of it…” Aziraphale didn’t seem fully convinced. “Do you want me to try?”, he asked, but Crowley just gave him a soft chuckle and a smile. “Well…you could try, but…I guess it’s better if I do this myself…No offence, Angel, but…this isn’t just a physical matter, I’ll also have to…heal a few damages on another level, I’m afraid…Something no human medicine will fix anyway – only miracles can do that, or…time. Lotsa time. And…well…I…I do appreciate your offer, but…it would require a lot of energy…you being an angel, me being a demon, ya know? I…don’t wanna drain you. Will be less trying for me, a demon healing…well…a demon…”

The angel sighed. “But…you’re injured. Weakened, you do realise that, don’t you? I’m an angel, yes, but contrary to you I have all my energies at my disposal. And if I exhaust myself, healing you, so what? Admittedly, I’m not a trained healer and you…might have to guide me along a bit if it’s on a more…ethereal-occult level, but…”, he began to protest. “Angel…as I said, I appreciate the offer…” “No! Crowley, you…you’re…Look. I said I’m not a healer, but even I know that you’re not supposed to heal yourself.” The demon huffed. “Yeah, and do you know why, Angel?” “Well…I…I suppose it’s…not recommendable?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah, pretty much. ‘s not recommendable because, well…as you said, healing requires energy. And…if you’re injured or in a bad shape, in any way, what are you lacking? Right, energy. So…trying to heal yourself is basically like trying to get the water out of the boat using a bucket with a hole in it. Thing is, if your bucket is large enough, the leak small enough and you’re quick enough, you might have a chance to succeed anyway. Will just…take a bit more effort than if you’d had a bucket that wasn’t leaking.”

Aziraphale contemplated this for a moment. “So…what you’re saying is that if you’re injured, you’re already lacking energy and if you’re healing yourself, this means you’re using up the energy you basically don’t have enough of to begin with.” “In a nutshell…” “And if you…have more energy than is needed to heal yourself, it’ll work, it’ll just…exhaust you. More than it would if you were fine and healing someone else.” Crowley nodded. “Alright. But…what if…if healing yourself requires more energy than you have? If…to stick to your metaphor, if the hole in the bucket is too big, there’s too much water in the boat and thus, all your efforts are fruitless?” The demon sighed. “Well…then, as you said, all efforts would be fruitless. You waste your energies on nothing whatsoever and end up worse than before. Complete exhaustion, up to a dangerous level.”

Aziraphale nodded. He’d expected that. Still, a part of him was surprised that Crowley actually admitted this. “So…you do admit that there’s a risk, then?”, he said, eyebrows raised. Crowley made a noise somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “Yeah, right. I admit to that, fine. But…trust me, I know what I’m doing. And…if I realise that I can’t make it, I can still stop and just wait and try again later. No big deal.” The angel wasn’t fully convinced that it was as easy as that, and Crowley was well aware of that fact. Aziraphale wasn’t stupid, after all. It wasn’t always easy to stop. Or, more precisely, it wasn’t easy to stop _in time_. To judge what level one’s own energies were actually on and when they’d be exhausted. And even if he noticed that he couldn’t make it and succeeded to stop himself in time, this would throw his healing process back quite considerably and leave him in a state a lot worse than before. But he’d be damned…well…twice damned if he’d admit that to the angel. Aziraphale would never agree to this in that case. And he needed the angel to agree because he really, really, _really_ didn’t want to stay here and be in this state any longer. There was only so much patience he had for this.

Aziraphale sighed and ran a hand over his face. He didn’t like this – but Crowley seemed rather determined and Aziraphale knew that the demon could be stubborn if he decided to be. And after all, Crowley had already been impatient before and had relented. Maybe he was truly sure about this? At any rate, his patience seemed to grow thin. And if Aziraphale was being honest with himself, he, too, longed to return home. “You’re sure about this? And…you’re sure you don’t want me to try and do this for you?” Crowley sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. On both points. I can handle this. And…while I have my doubts that anyone will come after us, I…also realise I’ve been wrong about this before, so…See, if you try to heal me, we’ll prob’ly both end up exhausted…but…I’d rather have you stay alert and at your best while I…well…sleep it off, I s’ppose. Just in case. Better safe than sorry.” “Oh…”, the angel replied, somewhat stunned. So Crowley _was_ worried that his assumption of them being safe was wrong. This actually made sense. “Alright…I understand that. Well, if you’re really sure, then I’ll trust your judgement. After all, you know yourself best, I guess…and…well, of course I’ll stay alert. I won’t let anyone harm either of us. Not if I can help it. And we should be safe at home anyway.”

Crowley nodded and smiled, visibly relieved. “Thanks, Angel…There’s one more thing, though…I…uhm…ngh…See…I’m sure I can actually handle this…Pretty sure…But…it will definitely require a large amount of energy and…obviously, I’m not in my best shape, so…uhm…I…I think I should…save whatever energy I have right now, keep it together and save it all up for that, not using it for…anything not strictly necessary…No avoidable miracles or exertion, ya know…” “Understandably so”, Aziraphale agreed. Crowley just nodded briefly. “Well…this means that…I…I might…need your help? To…get us outta here…?” The angel took a deep breath. He had hardly ever seen Crowley so…meek. It wasn’t often that the demon actually openly asked for help. Crowley began to frown, misinterpreting his hesitation, so he hastened to reassure him: “Of course, my dear. What do you want me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit with the ants is actually based on a very weird experience I had with my uncle: He told me about this out of the blue and the same day we saw that there was a documentary on the telly about ants and in the description, they said the same thing! As for the etymology bit, yes, I studied Latin, so please excuse my geeky self here...  
> Crowley does have a lot of patience - when it comes to Aziraphale. I mean, six millennia of friendship...But that doesn't mean he's as patient with himself. Especially not if he's convinced that there's a quicker way to fix things..


	21. Heal Thyself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Crowley's insistence, he and Aziraphale leave the hospital and return to the bookshop, where Crowley intends to heal himself. This, however, isn't quite as easily done as said. Still, Crowley insists on doing it himself...In the end, Aziraphale is beginning to realise that he has some questions he needs answers to...

“What do you want me to do?”, the angel had asked. Crowley considered for a moment. “Well…we need to get outta here without anyone stopping us…in fact, at best without anyone paying any attention whatsoever…And…we’ll need to get back to the bookshop somehow…” Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “Right. So, what you’re saying is that I’ll need to use some miracles to make sure that we can simply walk out of the doors of this place, that there will be a taxi waiting for us and that all those humans who were in any way involved in all of this best forget all about us ever having been here. Does that cover it?” Crowley stared back at him for a moment. He himself had clean forgotten about making sure that no one would remember them. “Right…yeah…’t does…”, he muttered. “Good”, the angel said with a curt nod, got up and took care of all that within moments. “Should all be set now. Ready to go. Now…anything else you need help with?”

In the meantime, the demon had sat up in bed and was looking around now, searchingly, with something close to uncertainty in his eyes. “Uhm…Angel…where are my clothes? Can’t walk outta here like this…” He gestured towards himself and the hospital gown he was wearing. “Oh, right…of course”, the angel replied, turned to open one of the drawers of the sorry excuse for a wardrobe and pulled out a neatly folded pile of black, “I took the liberty to fix them – they were sort of…torn and…covered in…in blood…and I managed to take your sunglasses along, too…I thought you’d want them…” The very memory of all the blood – way too much blood – still made Aziraphale’s stomach squirm.

Crowley swallowed. He hadn’t really thought about that. The angel placed the neat pile on the bed beside him, sunglasses on top. “Oh…uh…thanks, Angel…” He stared at the pile of his clothes for a moment, contemplating. “Crowley? Are you alright?”, Aziraphale asked. The demon took a deep breath. He felt rather embarrassed, but there was no helping it now. “Uh…well…I…ngk…I…I’m just…wondering which requires less energy: Miracling them on or…actually getting dressed…” “Oh…What…do you normally do?” Crowley shrugged. “Just use a quick miracle…But…as I said, ‘m not sure…I mean…I need to save my energies as best I can…So, using miracles, not a good idea…but…but then, actually getting dressed might be just as demanding right now…or more…Dunno…” Aziraphale sighed, shook his head slightly and smiled at him. “Crowley, my dear…if you want me to help, you can just ask, you know?” With that, he snapped his fingers and the demon suddenly found himself back in his familiar clothes. Crowley jumped slightly at the suddenness of it, then stared down at himself before muttering a somewhat embarrassed “Thank you”.

He grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, hoping that they’d do at least something to hide his embarrassment. Bad enough that he was blushing, as he noticed all too well. He took another deep breath and got up from the bed – only to immediately grab onto it, swaying quite a bit and fighting the sudden dizziness. Aziraphale was at his side at once, a steadying grip on his elbow. “You okay?”, the angel asked softly. Crowley nodded, relieved that the dizziness seemed to subside. “’m fine…jusst a bit dizzy…’ss alright…”, he muttered. Aziraphale didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he just hummed in agreement and began to slowly steer the demon towards the door. He only let go once he was convinced that Crowley wasn’t about to faint any moment.

They left the hospital without anyone paying any attention to them at all. People just let them pass by through the numerous hallways and out the front door. Right in front of it, a taxi was waiting. The driver looked up at them expectantly, without any clue as to why he felt compelled to do so. Aziraphale gave him the address of the bookshop and then helped Crowley get into the car. The demon hissed and winced slightly and, to the angel’s concern, he’d gone rather pale. Once Crowley was safe in the car, Aziraphale walked around to the other side and hopped in beside him.

The drive was agonising – every jolt, every bump in the road made Crowley clench his teeth. He wondered if he might have overestimated himself somewhat in his insistence to leave the hospital. Maybe another day or two wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. The demon sighed in relief when the car stopped in front of the familiar door to the bookshop. Aziraphale hadn’t said anything, though Crowley was fairly certain that he had noticed his discomfort. Now that the car had stopped, the angel paid the driver, got out of the car and then came around to help Crowley get out as well. Normally, the demon would have been embarrassed, but as it was, he only felt grateful for the help. He wasn’t quite sure that he’d have made it out of the car on his own without falling. Two steadying hands held him upright, however, making sure he didn’t fall. “Shit”, he muttered, hissing, breathing hard and struggling through the wave of dizziness, pain and nausea.

Aziraphale watched him with concern, waiting until Crowley seemed to be slightly more stable on his feet. Then, the angel draped the demon’s arm around his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around him to steady him. With Crowley leaning on him, he slowly walked them up the few stairs to the door. He didn’t bother searching for the key this time – a simple flick of his hand and the door opened for them. Once inside, he miracled the door shut again, making sure that the sign was flipped to ‘closed’ as well, before guiding Crowley towards the sofa in the back and slowly and carefully sitting him down there. The demon closed his eyes, leaned back and sighed in relief. He’d felt rather fine back in the hospital, but the taxi ride to the bookshop and walking to and from the taxi had left him more exhausted than he cared to admit. He took a few deep breaths, trying to relax and gather his strength for what he was about to endeavour.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do this?”, Aziraphale asked, concern audible in his voice. “Told ya, Angel…Angel, demon…don’t wanna…” “But…it works! We both know that angels and demons _can_ heal each other. You healed my wing. That was…not just a simple issue with a corporation, either. Wings are always connected with our ethereal…or…well, in your case, occult essence, our selves. How is this any different? Please, I just want to help…” This caused Crowley to actually open his eyes and look at the angel. He sighed. “I know…It’s just…ngh…Look, Angel: Yes, you’re right about our wings. But…they are very similar, ya know? Not much difference between an angel and a demon. The rest, however…There _are_ differences…and…I might not even actually know in advance what needs fixing and how, I’ll have to check and see for myself…I couldn’t guide you along…B’sides…I do know myself best…and as I said, repeatedly, I know what I’m doing here….”, Aziraphale’s pained expression caused him to give the angel an apologetic smile, “Look, Angel, I know you want to help and I’m more than grateful for that, honestly…”

Aziraphale sighed, somewhat dejected. “Is there anything I can do?” The demon’s smile grew a good deal warmer. “You’ve already done so much…but yeah, actually…First of all, a drink would be good…Something strong. Need to steady my nerves and get my spirits up a bit…And…well…then…I, uhm…ya see…I, ah…might…knock myself out a bit, perhaps…Guess I’ll be…rather exhausted after this, so…if…if you could just…ya know…just…be there…? Keep watch and…sstay…?” Crowley hoped that he wasn’t blushing too much…and that the fact that he’d just revealed that this might require a good deal of his energies wouldn’t cause Aziraphale to absolutely go against his plans. But to his surprise, the angel looked somewhat astonished at first, then he just managed something like a soft “oh…” and gave Crowley a strange, warm smile. “Oh, of course I’ll stay with you, my dear…No need to ask…I’d never leave you alone if you need me, you know…” Crowley stared back at him, struggling to form any coherent word for a moment, until, after a string of unintelligible noises, he managed a “thank you”. The angel nodded, but then he raised a finger: “But first…you said you needed a drink.” With that, he turned to go and get a glass for his friend.

While the angel was gone, Crowley took off his sunglasses and put them on the table. He wouldn’t need them now, after all. Aziraphale returned a moment later, carrying a glass with a generous amount of Scotch. He handed it over to Crowley, who, instead of savouring it as he usually would, pretty much downed it in one go, suppressing a slight cough at the burning sensation. “Thanks, Angel”, he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and handing the glass back. He took another deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady and ground himself and focus. _Well, ready to go_ , he thought.

Crowley kept his eyes closed, focusing to draw on whatever energy he might need. It felt…more slippery than usual. As if he was trying to keep a firm grip on a squirming fish. Usually, it wasn’t this difficult. But then, usually, he was in better shape. He frowned, took another deep breath and tried again. This time, he succeeded. _Good_ , he thought. Once he had a firm grip, he decided to first deal with the physical damage – or rather with what remained of it after what the doctors had done…and what the journey to the bookshop might have undone again. He placed his hands on his stomach and let the energy flow. Due to what had caused his injuries it required a bit more energy than it normally would have, but to Crowley’s relief, he’d been right and it worked now. _Excellent_. He almost sighed, but he caught himself – it was far from over, this was just the first step.

With the physical part dealt with – his corporation seemed to be fine now – Crowley turned his attention inward and onto another level, another plane of existence. He needed to check whatever damage his essence, his occult, demonic self had suffered. He hardly ever looked closely at this part of himself – and, as a matter of fact, he had his reasons why he didn’t really want Aziraphale, an angel, to see it. Well, seeing was perhaps the wrong word, since it was nothing either of them used their physical eyes for. It was rather…sensing on a different level, beyond the physical senses. Crowley had pretty much shut out the outside world by now, carefully checking the very core of his being, his true form, for damages. He didn’t like looking at it too closely, but right now, he had no choice. There were some gashes and tears, leaking energy. Of course there had to be – as he’d sensed, it hadn’t just been physical damage. To fully destroy an angel or a demon, it required more than just discorporation, after all, and he knew that Hastur’s intention had been exactly that: Complete destruction. That was why he had chosen that particular weapon.

With an internal sigh, Crowley began to guide the energy to whatever injuries he could find in his occult essence. No, he really didn’t want the angel to see this, at least not too closely. He didn’t mind being a demon – at least, most of the time, he didn’t. In fact, he thought he was quite happy with who and what he was. And he knew that he was way better at being a demon than at being the angel he once used to be. But still…looking at this, the destroyed, shattered remnants of what had once been an angel, broken and twisted into something else entirely, something…dark and vaguely snake-like, hollow where God’s grace once had resided…It reminded him of his Fall, and that, at any rate, was a memory he preferred to keep pushed to the very back of his mind, thank you very much. And as for Aziraphale…well, he didn’t want the angel to see the actual details of what happened to an angel who Fell – after all, this would be terrifying for any angel, and Crowley wasn’t quite sure how afraid Aziraphale might be of Falling himself…He also didn’t want Aziraphale to be shocked and to pity him and look at him like _that,_ and he knew the angel well enough to know that he would. Looking at his true occult form himself might bring up painful memories, but letting the angel look? No.

At least, it worked – the tears and gashes slowly mended and closed and the energy kept flowing the way it was supposed to. Crowley kept going, carefully guiding the energy he’d harnessed to wherever he found he needed it. He felt the slight pull of it flowing away and into the parts he guided it to, but then, quite suddenly, it began to pull on both sides. _Shit, not now, I’m not done yet, I can’t stop now, I can’t_ , he thought, gritting his teeth. For a fact, he truly couldn’t stop. It was beyond his control. And even if he could, all he’d done so far might be for nothing if the process was stopped now. _Just a little more…just a tiny bit_ …but then, the pull from both sides became too much and the flow just stopped. Or rather, the energy simply disappeared like water in the sand. Gone. The demon half groaned, half cried out and found himself back on the physical plane, eyes still closed, terribly exhausted, dazed and shaking violently. He could hear someone calling his name, strangely muted, as if that person was far away or as if he himself was under water or something.

The voice called him again, sounding closer this time. And then, he felt someone shaking him…or was that someone simply holding him and he was just shaking himself? “Crowley!” Now he finally recognised the voice. With some effort, he managed to open his eyes – only to stare directly into Aziraphale’s blue-green ones, wide and filled with worry. “’ngel…”, Crowley finally stammered through clattering teeth, “’ssss a-alright…” The angel frowned at him. Well, understandably so – Crowley supposed he probably didn’t exactly _look_ alright and, as it seemed, Aziraphale had been calling his name for quite a few times by now. “You’re shaking…”, the angel stated. “’m c-c-cold…” “Cold? But…it’s not that cold in here…” Aziraphale slowly shook his head, frowning and visibly concerned. Crowley would have huffed, but he didn’t have the energy for it. “S-s-sssnake…l-low on e-energy…n-n-need warmth…”, he tried to explain. Realisation seemed to dawn on the angel’s face. “Oh…so…you need something to warm you? Oh…well…give me a moment, I’ll be back in a jiffy…”

With that, Aziraphale hurried out of the room, only to return a moment later with a fluffy blanket and a hot water bottle. “Here…could you…get up for a moment? Here, I’ll help you…”, he muttered, pulling the shaking demon to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and gently pushing him back down on the sofa before handing him the hot water bottle. Crowley was hardly able to grab it, his hands were shaking too much, but with the angel’s help he managed to place the hot water bottle right on his stomach and hugged it with a sigh of relief and a muttered “thanks”.

“Did…did it work? Your…healing yourself?”, Aziraphale asked. Still shaking, Crowley nodded. He was fairly certain that he’d succeeded, but he didn’t really want to tell the angel that it had been a rather close thing. Aziraphale wasn’t a fool, however – if Crowley’s current state told him anything, it was that the demon had pretty much exhausted whatever energies he had. “Would you like some tea? Warm you from the inside as well?”, the angel suggested, and for once, Crowley gladly agreed. Tea sounded great. Anything warm sounded great, really. “Alright, my dear…Just a moment…”, the angel nodded and left once again. Usually, he prepared tea the human way, but now he made the water boil instantly for the second time within a few moments. He returned to the sofa a moment later with a cup of tea and yet another hot water bottle.

Crowley eyed the second hot water bottle with confusion. “Wh-wha’…?”, he began, but the angel simply placed the cup of tea on the table and the second hot water bottle on the sofa beside Crowley before kneeling down in front of him. The demon frowned and shot the angel a questioning glance. “May I?”, Aziraphale asked and reached for his foot. “Wh-what…are ya…?” “Trust me, dear, please…” Crowley nodded, still shaking, still cold and still confused. It was…strange, somehow, the angel, a being of light and grace, kneeling in front of him, a demon, like this. It dimly reminded Crowley of that one evening back in 1941, after he’d burnt his feet in a certain church. He felt oddly embarrassed. Gently, Aziraphale took his shoes off, but it was only when he placed the second hot water bottle on Crowley’s feet and wrapped the end of the blanked Crowley was now cocooned in around them that the demon understood. Oh, this felt good! He let out a sigh of relief when he felt the hot water bottle warming his icy feet. He was still freezing, but now, at last, the local heat on his feet and his stomach and the fluffy warmth of the blanket slowly began to help.

When Aziraphale offered him the cup of tea, however, he only half-heartedly tried to reach for it, noticing that his hands were shaking way too badly to hold anything. “I could hold it for you”, the angel offered, but Crowley shook his head. “’ssss f-fine…J-jussst…s-s-sssit down and…k-k-keep me c-company and…I…I g-guessss I’ll…b-bessst t-t-try to s-s-sssleep it off…” “Okay…” With that, Aziraphale sat down beside him. Almost immediately, the shivering demon leaned against him. Carefully, the angel wrapped his arm around him. Well, this felt even better – not just artificial heat, but a warm body to lean against. Crowley’s inner serpentine nature rejoiced at this. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “You can lie down if you like…”, the angel said, miracling a book into his other hand. Too exhausted to think about it, Crowley did just that – he slumped down on his back, knees drawn up so that he could place his feet on the hot water bottle, and his head in the angel’s lap. His eyes fell shut immediately, so that he didn’t even see Aziraphale’s expression, shifting from stunned surprise to a loving, warm smile.

Aziraphale watched his friend for a while. There were still shivers running through his body, but they seemed to slowly grow less violent and with longer intervals in between. After a while, the angel guessed that Crowley had probably fallen asleep, so he opened his book and began to read, his free hand resting on the demon’s shoulder except for when he needed to turn a page. He didn’t even notice when it began to wander and ended up in Crowley’s hair. That was, he finally did notice when the demon sighed and shifted again, turning on his side and curling up – and burying his nose...or rather, his entire face, in the somewhat threadbare, velvety fabric of the angel’s vest with another sigh, one of complete content. His arms came out from beneath the blanked he was wrapped in and he snaked them around the angel’s waist, instinctively snuggling in even closer. Aziraphale automatically raised his hand, only noticing now that he’d had his fingers buried in those lovely strands of red hair. Was Crowley sleeping or was he actually still awake? Well, in all probability he’d fallen asleep. Aziraphale couldn’t imagine the demon doing this while he was awake. But if this was a subconscious reaction, did it mean what the angel thought it did? What he hoped it did? Or was it just for the warmth? But by now, Crowley at least wasn’t shivering anymore.

Aziraphale found himself watching the demon again – and he wondered for a moment, if Crowley was still able to breathe at all like this, with his whole face buried in the angel’s vest, until he remembered that neither of them actually needed to breathe. The demon seemed content enough, at any rate. The angel smiled, and this time he reached out consciously to continue to run his fingers through the strands of fiery copper. Only after a while did his attention turn towards his book again. He used a quick miracle to make sure the hot water bottles as well as the tea remained warm and, while reading, he found himself again and again looking down at his sleeping friend. He couldn’t help smiling fondly, but after a while, he began to wonder. What Crowley had pulled off here was tremendous. How had he been able to do this? And how had he _known_ what to do? Sure, he knew himself best, but knowing oneself and being able to heal oneself – and on such a level – these were two very different things, after all.

Aziraphale had always had a few things he’d very much like to know answers to, but especially over the last few weeks there had been a number of moments that had left him wondering. Oh, how he wished Crowley wouldn’t just clam up whenever he as much as hinted at the demon’s angelic past. Or was Crowley actually unable to talk about it? Or…did he not remember, maybe? But he had talked about creating stars, after all, so he surely had to remember _something_. Maybe it was about time he’d try and ask Crowley directly, without any beating around the bush. But then, he thought, certainly not now. No, he definitely wouldn’t take advantage of his friend’s current weakened state – that would be unfair. But well, they had time, didn’t they? _At least, I hope so_ , he thought, remembering once again how close he’d come to losing Crowley. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. No. No, they would be fine. And they had time. Aziraphale _would_ ask Crowley about a few things. But for now, the demon deserved some rest and the angel had every intention to just remain right there, on the sofa, reading his book and watching over his sleeping best friend, postponing whatever burning questions he had until he was sure that Crowley was feeling better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, slowly but surely, Aziraphale is starting to wonder...which will definitely lead to some long-overdue conversations and a rather huge revelation...for both of them.  
> Of course, snakes don't feel cold all the time and I'm actually not quite sure if Crowley is as cold-blooded as a regular snake. My take is, being a demon, he's perfectly capable of regulating his own temperature - but in a weakened state like this, he might be in trouble. In fact, probably any angel or demon would be if they use up pretty much all of their energies, Crowley maybe just to a somewhat greater extent.  
> He definitely has his reasons for wanting to do this himself - but still, Aziraphale and Crowley definitely make a good team as well, when it comes to relying on each other.  
> Anyway, hope you like it! I'm still uploading in the usual schedule and for now, I'm positive that I can keep that up, so stay tuned!


	22. What’s in a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Crowley has managed to heal himself, Aziraphale has been thinking and finally demands some answers to questions he's never dared to directly ask his friend before, questions about Crowley's angelic past. But the answer he finally gets, however reluctantly given, is one he might need some time to come to terms with, even though he maybe could have expected it...

“Angel! How could you! Kicking me out, and so close to the finish line…That…that’s pretty heartless of you…” Crowley shook his head, half amused, half offended, his gaze shifting between the smug grin on the angel’s face and the board of ludo on the table between them. “Well, I’m sorry, my dear…Maybe we should both be grateful that this isn’t the alcoholic version of the game…” “Alcoholic version?” “Yes…I’ve heard there is a version of this where you play with shots of alcohol, preferably strong, instead of these little tokens…and any time you get kicked out, you have to down the glass…” Crowley’s eyebrows rose up. “Oh, that sounds like fun, Angel! Guess we should definitely get that one!” Aziraphale chuckled. He’d expected that reaction. “Your turn, by the way”, he said and nodded in the direction of the dice on the table.

They’d been taking things slowly for a few days. Aziraphale had lost track of time by the time Crowley had finally woken up, pale and still rather groggy, but far more like his old self. The angel had insisted that Crowley stayed until he felt completely fine again and until his energy levels were back to normal. The demon had just rolled his eyes, but he’d relented nonetheless. The first day, he’d still preferred to wrap himself in the fluffy blanket and he certainly hadn’t complained when the angel had repeatedly brought him tea and hot water bottles to keep him warm. By now, however, the blanket had been discarded, along with the hot water bottles and the tea, and Aziraphale found that some colour had returned to his friend’s face. The angel smiled warmly. Oddly enough, it hadn’t even been awkward when Crowley had woken up, still snuggled up to him in the same way he’d fallen asleep. Perhaps, the demon had been too exhausted and the angel too relieved to feel in any way bashful about this. After all, this hadn’t been the result of a drunken night.

“Guess you’re going to win this one, Angel…” Crowley shrugged with a sigh. “Do you want me to let you win?”, the angel asked with a raised eyebrow. “How dare you! Adding insult to injury, really, Aziraphale? Nah, go ahead, beat me”, Crowley retorted in mock offence, smirking. Aziraphale just chuckled and they continued the game, until – as expected – the angel won. After that, they soon settled for another quiet evening in the bookshop, Crowley sprawled on the sofa, the sunglasses discarded since the day they’d returned to the bookshop from the hospital, and Aziraphale in his armchair as usual.

After a while, however, Aziraphale began to get a bit shifty. Now and again, he cast a furtive glance at the demon on the sofa. _Snake. Truly incapable of simply sitting normally_ , he thought fondly, allowing his train of thought to wander for a moment from what he actually kept thinking about. But there really was no point in putting it off any longer, was there? “How are you feeling, my dear? Honestly?”, he finally asked, as innocently as he could manage. Crowley looked up at him from his phone. “Huh? Oh, ’m fine, Angel, don’t fret. Back to my old wily self, no worries.” With that, he turned his attention back to the phone, thus missing the angel’s somewhat apprehensive expression. “Oh, okay…well…I’m so glad to hear it. Jolly good, truly”, Aziraphale said, wringing his hands. How should he best go about this?

“Erm…Crowley…Can…can I ask you a question?” “Ya just did, so yes, obviously ya can”, the demon replied without even looking at him. Aziraphale stopped short for a moment. The somewhat brittle reaction made him wonder if the demon actually suspected something. “What?”, he finally managed, which caused Crowley to sigh, slightly roll his eyes and sit up. “Well…in asking me if you could ask me a question, you already did just that, so yes, it’s fairly obvious that you’re perfectly capable of asking me a question.” “That’s…not how I meant it, Crowley. But fine. _May_ I ask you something?” The demon quirked an eyebrow, but then he just shrugged. “Well…yeah, sure…” “And…you’ll answer? Truthfully?” Another shrug. “If I can…” Aziraphale nodded and sighed. “Well, my dear…if anyone can answer that, it’s you, so…” Still, he hesitated, fidgeting, and since Crowley was now looking at him, the demon couldn’t help but notice. Aziraphale didn’t miss his friend’s frown, but somehow, he found himself suddenly rather tongue-tied. After a moment of staring, Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes again in exasperation. “What is it, Angel? What have I done this time? Or…you?”

Aziraphale’s eyes became wide as saucers. He raised his hands defensively. “Oh…no, no, that’s not –” “Well, then out with it, what is it?” The angel stared at his friend for a moment. It was obvious that Crowley was getting annoyed by now. Not a good start, definitely not a good start. The angel took a deep breath. “Well…erm…you…you’ve been a demon for a very long time…” Crowley frowned and shook his head in irritation. “That’s not a question, Angel.” “Yes…I know…I…I mean…You…were already a demon when we first met, on that wall in Eden…” “Still not a question.” Aziraphale was beginning to feel somewhat annoyed himself by these interruptions. As if this wasn’t difficult enough already. “Yes! I know, I’m getting there! So…I…I assume this means that you…Fell along with Lucifer and the others, during the War…Rebellion, whatever you want to call it…?” “Uh…yeah? I…thought that was fairly obvious?” Crowley seemed somewhat confused now. What did the angel want?

Aziraphale sighed. “Well…I…I was wondering…You know…up in Heaven, they say that…demons don’t remember who they were before they Fell…” Crowley snorted. “Wot?! Ya really think good ol’ Satan doesn’t remember who he was before? What kinda punishment would that be – Falling and not knowing what for or what you’ve lost? What noob came up with that idea? That’s ridiculous!” “That’s what I thought, too…So…you do remember, then?” It was only now that Crowley actually realised where this was going. “Uh…ngk…uhm…y-yeah…? Unless…unless anyone…chooses to make oneself forget…All or…some of it…”

Aziraphale nodded. He hesitated for a moment, but then he thought that he’d pushed as far as this, so he might as well go through with it. “And…what about you yourself? I…I mean I assume you…You said you made stars, so…obviously, you remember _something_ …” The demon flinched, but then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After all, the angel surely wouldn’t stop now. “I…uhm…well…I did feel tempted to…make myself forget…’specially in the beginning…but…ultimately, I could never bring myself to actually go through with it…so…yeah, I do…I remember…I remember the Fall…what it felt like…and…the time before that…Everything…” He spoke very quietly, hardly more than a whisper, and he never once looked up. Aziraphale wasn’t even sure if Crowley was simply looking down or if he still kept his eyes closed. The angel felt torn between the rather morbid curiosity to ask what Falling was like and the urge to get up and give his friend a hug. Obviously, these weren’t pleasant memories.

Aziraphale noticed that he’d been holding his breath, so he slowly let it out and nodded slightly. He’d expected Crowley to remember if he was being honest. What he hadn’t been quite prepared for was seeing his friend like this. Crowley seemed…shaken. Almost fragile, in a way. The angel hesitated, not for the first time. Was it right to actually keep pushing on now? But then again, this was the first time Crowley hadn’t immediately clammed up and Aziraphale had no idea when – if ever – he’d get the demon to talk about this again. He swallowed. “Would you…tell me? I mean…who…who you were, back then…before…?”

It was only now that the demon did look up, but his gaze didn’t meet the angel’s eyes. He seemed…tired. “Doess it matter?”, he asked, sounding dejected. “Well…I’m just…asking…It matters to _me_ …” “Why? ’m not that angel anymore. Haven’t been for over ssix thoussand yearss. And never will be. Long time ago. Why should it matter?” Aziraphale sighed at these painfully obvious defensive walls his friend was pulling up. He shook his head softly. “Crowley…please…just…Why won’t you tell me? Look…You know everything about me. I…I’ve always been…well…me. This. And…I’ve told you what I’d done before we met…But…but with you, there’s just this…part of you I know nothing about.” “There’sss nothing to know…”, the demon hissed in reply. “You know that’s not true”, the angel objected. Crowley let out a defensive hiss, but Aziraphale knew him well enough to not feel threatened by it. “Issn’t thiss enough? What doesss it change, you knowing whoever I once ussed to be? That angel’ss gone!”

Aziraphale cocked his head. “Well, if it doesn’t change anything, why won’t you tell me? Or…are you unable to tell me? Is there…some sort of a taboo on this? I mean…after all, all demons seem to have…new names…” The strangely haunted look of those serpentine eyes was enough to at least partly confirm this suspicion. “Crowley?” The demon in question huffed and crossed his arms. “Well, it’s certainly frowned upon and…just not done. For…reasons. We don’t call other demons by their former names and we certainly don’t go around using our own former names. It’s…well…not recommendable. We no longer hold any rights to those names. They’ve…been taken from us, so…” He gestured vaguely, hoping, half-heartedly, that this would be enough to make the angel shut up or at least change the topic, but one look at Aziraphale told him that his hopes were in vain. “But…you can say it? You could tell me? Crowley, since when…since when have _you_ , of all people, ever bothered about the rules?” The demon huffed again and shot him an almost angry glance. “I don’t!”, he objected. “Then why won’t you tell me?”, Aziraphale retorted, now sounding somewhat heated himself.

Crowley took another breath to object, but his string of inarticulate noises was cut short by Aziraphale interrupting him. “We’re friends, for God’s sake, we’ve known each other for six millennia! And…and yet, there’s this part of you that I know nothing about – why in Heav-…why on Earth won’t you tell me?” “Becaussse it doesssn’t matter!” “But what’s so bad about it? I just want to know you better, you know? It might not matter, but…who knows, maybe I’ve heard about you or something…” Crowley just huffed. “Ya might”, he grumbled. “Well, then why won’t you just tell me? Don’t you understand? I just…want to see the whole picture. Know my best friend as well as I possibly can. As well as _you_ know _me_. So please! Who were you? Why won’t –” “Raphael.” It was hardly more than a strained, hoarse whisper. Aziraphale stared for a moment. “What?” Crowley just let out a shuddering breath, avoiding the angel’s questioning gaze. “I believe you heard me”, he replied in the same tone as before, sounding incredibly tired. For half a minute or so, there was silence, until Aziraphale found his voice again: “ _The_ Raphael?” Crowley huffed. “Oh, I don’t know. Are there ssseveral angelss of that name that you know of?”, he snapped, all venomous snake.

This time, Aziraphale actually did flinch. He raised his hands in defence, but it took him another moment to say something again. “You…you are an archangel?”, he managed, half shocked, half incredulous. Crowley’s anger seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it had come. The demon sighed and closed his eyes. “You’re using the wrong tense, Aziraphale. I _am_ a demon. Have been for millennia, and it’s not gonna change. And quite frankly, I don’t think I’d want it to, either.” The angel swallowed. “Fine, then…you… _were_ an archangel, then…?” It wasn’t really a question and Crowley didn’t bother to answer. His silence was a sufficient answer anyway. He could have denied it, but the fact that he didn’t just confirmed it. There was another silent break in their conversation, one neither of them was comfortable with. Crowley just felt numb. Exhausted. Aziraphale, on the other hand, tried hard to control his inner turmoil. He had expected a lot, but not this. And yet…it made sense. And…really, what exactly _had_ he expected? He was no longer sure.

“I always thought we were equals…”, the angel finally whispered. Crowley just huffed. “What’ss that ssuppossed to mean? You’re an angel, I’m a demon. Pretty sure ya could ssmite me if ya want to...” “What?!”, Aziraphale stared at Crowley in shock, “I’d never do that, you know that!” “But you could. Sso. Angel, demon. Sssemss pretty equal to me.” Aziraphale swallowed and slowly shook his head. “That…that’s not what I meant. You…For God’s sake, demon or no, you have way more power at your disposal than I do! And I never even knew!” The demon merely rolled his eyes and huffed again. “What d’ya want me to do about that now? You were the one who inssissted and wouldn’t ssstop assking.” The angel groaned, somewhat exasperated. “Well, excuse me, please, I simply didn’t expect this. Would you please give me a moment to come to terms with the fact that I have a damned archangel – literally – sitting on my sofa?” This was too much. With an angry hiss, Crowley almost jumped to his feet. “Fine, that’sss it! I’ll better go then! Don’t wanna unsssettle you!” With that, he grabbed his sunglasses from the table and turned to march to the door, but Aziraphale reacted just in time: Realising what was happening, he jumped up as well and reached out for his friend, getting a hold of his sleeve. “Crowley, wait! I…I’m sorry…Please…stay…Let’s…let’s talk about this…”

Aziraphale felt strangely afraid, but when he saw the distress in those familiar serpentine eyes, he felt increasingly sorry. This was Crowley, after all. His best friend. And he was still the same he’d always been, for as long as Aziraphale had known him. The thing was just that Aziraphale himself wasn’t quite the same now. He sighed and steered the demon back towards the sofa. Instead of returning to his armchair, though, he sat down beside him. For a moment, he just leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. Crowley said nothing the whole time, which was rather unlike the demon and told the angel clearly enough that he wasn’t the only one struggling right now. Finally, he sat back upright, sighed and then cast a sideways glance at his friend. Crowley sat hunched over, staring into space and hugging himself. The angel sighed. “Crowley…look…I…It’s just…I’ve…I’ve been pushed around by archangels for my entire life…Gabriel, for one, but…the others, too. And…Gabriel was my…my boss…and…and now I get to know that…you were one of them…”

But at that, Crowley turned to face him, eyes burning with anger. “Don’t. You. Dare, Aziraphale! Don’t you dare compare me to that fuckwit! The only angel you may ever, and I mean _ever_ , compare me to, are _you_. And I’m telling you, I’m falling short in that comparison.” Aziraphale stared at him wide-eyed, incredulously shaking his head. “What do you mean?”, he muttered, so the demon continued. “Well, it’s the only thing that makes sense, really. We’re the only ones who’ve been here on Earth this whole time. We’re the only ones who started working together instead of against each other, the only ones thinking for themselves, the only ones who stood up against their respective bosses, the only ones who tried to stop Armageddon, to stop this blasted world from being blown up into bloody pieces. We have way more in common with each other than with…well, anyway. If ya really need a foil, compare me to yourself, not to some stuck-up, self-righteous, hypocritical wanker.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a moment. There definitely seemed to be some bad blood between Crowley and Gabriel – it wasn’t the first time that Aziraphale had noticed that the demon didn’t seem particularly fond of his former boss. He’d suspected that it had been because of the few things he’d told Crowley about his own relationship with the archangel, but knowing what he knew now, he began to suspect that this grudge went deeper than that. After a moment, however, the angel actually processed what exactly Crowley had said – about the two of them. He made a somewhat strangled noise, followed by an almost incredulous laugh. “Our own side, then?”, he asked. Crowley nodded. “Our own side…If…if that’ss…sstill okay for you…knowing what ya know now…” It was only now that the angel noticed the still lingering worry in the demon’s gaze. He hurried to reassure Crowley: “Oh, of course…By all means…And…well, so what if you’ve been an archangel once…It’s fine…I just…need a while, is all…You’re still you, after all…and it’s nothing bad…Doesn’t really change anything…” Aziraphale gave Crowley what he hoped to be an encouraging smile.

It was true, though. If he was being honest with himself, the angel had always known that there were certain things Crowley could do that were way beyond his own powers as a principality. He’d just never bothered to really think about it. Well…until recently, that was. That explained why Crowley had been at all able to heal himself, and in such a bad shape as he’d been in. And that wasn’t the only thing if Aziraphale really thought about it. There had been a few instances over time and also recently when the demon had reacted in a rather erratic way. Reactions that suddenly made way more sense now. Apart from all that, there were those things Aziraphale had just…taken for granted: Crowley could stop time. Actually, literally stop it. That was a feat that was quite beyond the angel’s own powers. Aziraphale could manipulate time, sure, slowing it down or speeding it up, but actually stopping it? And then, there was the fact that Crowley always seemed to pick up way quicker on anyone watching them than Aziraphale did. And lately, well…At any rate, this explained why the demon had been able to heal the angel’s broken wing and why he’d known that he couldn’t fix his own wings himself. Because he’d been the very angel to create that specific healing spell in the first place. And he hadn’t just created that. Well, with what he knew now, Aziraphale definitely had some things to ponder over…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, this and the next chapter actually belong together, I just split them into two because it would have been too long for one chapter, so stay tuned for "part 2", in a way...  
> Yes, there is an alcoholic version of ludo - I've played it and I must admit that it's EVIL! Rather surprising that Crowley didn't know of this - he and Aziraphale definitely would have a lot of fun with that one...  
> Well, here's the big reveal now, anyway...I stumbled across that theory a while ago and the more I looked into it, the more I liked it. There are some truly wonderful fanfics on here, too, and admittedly, I was quite a bit inspired (among others, I reckon) by this one (so, credit where credit is due, a big thanks to the author and I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to read it): https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373023  
> Still, here is my own take on this and I hope you like it! By the way, it will become clear in the next chapter that there is actually a very valid reason why all demons have chosen new names...And Aziraphale and Crowley definitely have a lot to talk about now...


	23. You Were an Angel Once…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the angel has managed to get Crowley to tell him about his angelic past, there are quite a few things the two of them need to talk about - because this is definitely big news for Aziraphale...and because Aziraphale, too, has done some digging and knows a few things that Crowley didn't have any idea about...

Aziraphale and Crowley were still sitting on the sofa together, the angel slowly coming to terms with what he’d finally got out of Crowley, after all those centuries of wondering. “You really created the stars…I…I thought you might be bragging about it just a little bit, exaggerating, but…as it seems…you’ve actually been…rather modest about it…” The angel softly shook his head when he realised the full truth of what he was saying, but Crowley just shrugged. “Stars, nebulae, some galaxies…I helped…’s not like I did all of that on my own…” He sounded weary and oddly melancholic.

Aziraphale let out a breath and ran his hand across his face. “You know…it’s funny, somehow…Ironic…I…erm…I actually did some digging into what became of Raphael after the Rebellion…” Crowley turned to look at him, frowning in confusion. “What d’ya mean? I Fell, end of story.” “Well…yes…I know that now, but…up in Heaven…nobody really seemed to have any clue as to what had happened to Raph-…to you. Or nobody seemed to be willing to tell. There were…a few different versions and none of them really made much sense…” Crowley huffed and gave him a bitter smile. “They probably couldn’t deal with another Fallen archangel…Looks just like them…” The angel nodded slowly. “You know…I guess you’re right…The turmoil was bad enough already, so…” “So, what did they say, then?”

The angel sighed. “Well…some said that Lucifer had killed Raphael…” Crowley made a noncommittal grunt “Not too far from the truth, in a way”, he muttered. Aziraphale shot him a somewhat disbelieving glance before continuing: “Others said that he’d just…disappeared. Gone off to the stars, to create more of them…” He heard Crowley’s sardonic chuckle, but preferred not to comment on it. “Ya know, Angel…that would’ve been…nice, kinda…’s one of the few things I actually miss about being an angel…Creating stars…That was…” The demon trailed off, sighing softly and shrugging. Aziraphale felt tempted to reach out and put his hand on his friend’s arm, but he hesitated, unsure if the gesture would be welcome right now. Instead, he continued: “Well…and then…there were those who said that Raphael was down on Earth…incognito…Knowing what I know now, it seems that this…was actually closest to the truth…” This time, Crowley didn’t reply. His only reaction was a brief, melancholic lopsided smile.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Finally, Crowley stirred. “Well…and what did you make of it all? You said ya did some digging…” Aziraphale sighed. “Yes…I did. Well…as I said, I’d…started out working in the library before Eden, so…that was a good starting point for my research. I was always welcome to return there, after all. So, I kept an eye on several books and…might have taken some of them along, too, as you know…Not all of the heavenly books here are related to that, but…some of them…And…well…then humans began to tell stories about Raphael, so…I was certain that, at least, he couldn’t be dead. At least, it was unlikely. That…that _was_ you, wasn’t it? Tobit and all that?” Crowley shrugged. “Well…I usually tried to not give any name at all…or…go by some alias if I had to…But humans aren’t stupid, and…well, sometimes they became suspicious…Well, couldn’t very well give them the name of a demon, after all…Wouldn’t have worked…and…I didn’t want that stuff to pop up in my file – I had enough to explain, as it was…No need to complicate matters further…And…well…I didn’t really wanna drag any random angel into this, so…I figured…if I had to, I could just as well use the name of an angel that no longer existed.” “Your own”, Aziraphale nodded. “But…Crowley…you see, that’s the thing…You know, there are files up in Heaven for every single angel…” “Yeah, I know…Hell has those too, as I said…Didn’t want that stuff ending up in my file…” “Yes…understandable…But…you see…the files of those angels who Fell or died haven’t been destroyed, they are still there. There’s just…nothing happening with them…So…imagine my surprise when I stumbled across the file of the archangel Raphael…and noticed that there were entries far more recent than his disappearance and supposed death.”

Crowley looked at him in utter disbelief. “What? But…that...that’ss imposssible…” “It’s true, though…It seems…whatever you did using your…your angelic name…ended up in that file. So…whatever you did did end up in your file – just not in the one down in Hell. It’s just…nobody ever pays attention to those files…unless they want to specifically check on you”, Aziraphale added, some not so nice memories coming back to him about times when his own file had been examined. The demon slowly shook his head. “How…?” But Aziraphale just shrugged. “I don’t know, dear. I just know what I found. But…so you did use your former name occasionally? Did…did you also do that during our Arrangement? Is…that why you were so unbothered that Hell could ever find out?” For the first time, a semblance of the old, familiar smirk came back to Crowley’s face. “Yeah, I might have, occasionally…I…used yours, mostly, though…I mean…’t was _your_ job, after all…Would’ve been weird if that didn’t end up in your file…Wasn’t sure that would work, though…” The angel chuckled softly. “You know, I actually did the same when I did some temptations for you…Seems we’ve been thinking on similar lines, then…” “Seems like it”, the demon agreed. Then, he shook his head again, frowning at the seemingly impossible facts Aziraphale had just told him about his file up in Heaven.

But if that file contained recent data, then why hadn’t Aziraphale long solved this puzzle? He frowned even more. “And yet, you never found out…Despite checking that file?” The angel blushed, wringing his hands ever so slightly. “Well…I guess I would have, had I not been…told off.” Crowley looked at him questioningly, so he tried to elaborate: “Well…you see, Michael found out about my…investigation and…Gabriel rather strongly discouraged me from continuing it. He said I had better things to do than waste my time searching for lost angels…” Crowley nodded. “He probably knew you’d be clever enough to find out and he got scared…” The angel huffed slightly. “Well, I’m not sure about the ‘clever’ part…I don’t think Gabriel…holds me in very high regard…But…yes, I guess he…Wait…does he know? Who you are?” But Crowley just shrugged and Aziraphale had the feeling that he shouldn’t keep prodding right now. “Well, I’m pretty sure he didn’t know about our Arrangement, at any rate…I’d have been in a lot of trouble if he had”, the angel finally muttered.

There was another moment of silence between them. Crowley wasn’t quite sure what Aziraphale was thinking about – he could only imagine that the angel was still trying to come to terms with the facts. After all, he himself felt rather…torn. But well…now that the thing was out in the open, there was no going back. But then, something else occurred to him. “Angel…uhm…why?” The angel looked back at him in confusion. “Why what?” “Well…you said you did some digging, but…why? I mean…you also said you’ve been pushed around by archangels all your life, you…don’t really have any reason to feel particularly curious about yet another one of them who’s…gone missing…” Aziraphale stared at him for a moment, a slight frown on his face. “Oh…don’t you know…? I…well…for a start, it’s…well, just take my own name. Aziraphale. I…literally have Raphael in my name. ‘Of Raphael’. Fairly obvious. That…that would’ve been enough already to make me curious about the angel I was named after but never got to meet…But…well, it’s not a coincidence, either…The name…” Now it was Crowley’s turn to frown.

Aziraphale sighed. “Well…you know…I…I actually stumbled across some of those memos and complaints that Raphael…that… _you_ filed back then…Lots of questions, criticism, complaints about this and that, lots of it rather witty, in fact, which…reminded me of you quite a bit…Well, now I know why that was…But…there were also those repeated requests for…well, for assistance…” Crowley nodded. “Yeah, well…I…I liked creating stars, I really did…but…it was a lot, and…mostly all by myself…The others who were involved in this…well…we were few and far apart…A helping hand would’ve been…nice…Or rather…someone to talk to…really talk to, I mean…Same goes for all that healing stuff…I mean, sure, I taught quite a few, but…an actual assistant of sorts…” Trailing off, Crowley just shrugged. Aziraphale nodded. “Well…you know…I…You wouldn’t have needed to file all those requests…The Almighty had actually originally intended for me to…go and assist you…but…but then, the War came and…after that…well…instead of assisting Raphael, I ended up working for Gabriel.” For a moment, Crowley could only stare at the angel in shock. “What?”, he finally croaked. Aziraphale just nodded with a sad smile, confirming what he’d said before.

Crowley felt as if the figurative rug under his feet had suddenly been pulled away. He kept staring, open-mouthed, shocked, forgetting how to breathe. This couldn’t be real, right? It seemed to take him an eternity of struggling through incoherent strings of consonants, until he finally shook his head and managed a simple “no”. Aziraphale kept looking at him with a peculiar mixture of fondness, worry, sadness and compassion. “You didn’t know?”, he asked quietly. Finally remembering how to breathe, the demon actually gasped for breath a few times before he could reply. “No. No, I did not. Blesssed Heaven, I didn’t even know if God even ass much asss read whatever I sssent. Becaussse the Almighty. Never. Replied. To anything! To no quessstionssss! Never! Not even once! Not to me, not to _anyone!_ ” He noticed that he was shaking just as much as his voice was and he wasn’t quite sure if this was the beginning of a full-blown panic attack or if he was just feeling incredibly angry and hurt. At any rate, he felt that he had a hard time breathing. “I’m so sorry, Crowley”, Aziraphale mumbled, placing a gentle hand on his arm. This seemed to have a somewhat calming effect on him, at least. He forced himself to take a few steady, deep breaths, which seemed to help as well.

Aziraphale watched his friend somewhat worriedly. While he himself felt rather overwhelmed by it all, he’d hardly ever seen Crowley like this. What he witnessed just now seemed to be somewhat of a hint as to how and why Raphael had Fallen. And as it seemed, it still hurt, even after over six millennia. At least, the demon seemed to slowly calm down a bit. Aziraphale tried to smile. “Well…I…I’ve often wondered what things would have been like…if…well, if I hadn’t ended up working for Gabriel, but for Raphael, as intended. What that would have been like and…what we’d have done…What I’d have learned…Creating stars? Healing?” Crowley just shrugged. “Could still teach ya some o’ that if ya want…”, he muttered. “Oh, I’d love to, actually. I mean…I learned other things, obviously, but…healing always interested me…It’s a very useful ability…” The angel trailed off, but all he got in reply was another shrug. Was it possible that Crowley didn’t actually value this talent as much as Aziraphale thought he ought to? And after all he’d done recently?

“Well…at least, now I know what you meant when you said that some of the angels who came up with all those healing spells and all that wouldn’t mind us keeping that book…You…you meant yourself, didn’t you?” Crowley didn’t react to that. “And…all those times you insisted that you knew what you were doing…It all makes sense now…”, the angel added, still with no reaction from his friend, who had once again resumed his previous pose, huddled over, with his arms wrapped around himself, staring into space. Aziraphale sighed. “You know…I’ve wondered what things would have been like…and…now I still wonder, just…with a different…angle, of sorts…What it would have been like, working for you, _with_ you, up in Heaven. You’d…have been my boss, after all, sort of…It’s…it’s ironic, we…Despite everything, despite you Falling, we still ended up working together…but as friends. I wonder…how different it would have been…if at all…” This, finally, coaxed a reaction out of the demon. “Well, we’ll never know…No point asking…”, he muttered, sounding rather bitter. For someone who’d never stopped asking questions, who, in fact, had asked so many questions that it had caused him to Fall, this was a very bitter and disillusioned statement indeed, and Crowley was very aware of it.

Aziraphale frowned. Crowley’s mood worried him. “Well…but…you see…maybe it was all meant to be, you know? From the start. We were meant to work together and…we did! No matter the circumstances. It’s –” “Oh, _pleassse!_ Don’t you dare sssay ‘ineffable’ now!” The angel winced slightly. “But…it is. I’m pretty sure it is. I mean…the Almighty might not talk to us as much as we’d like and…She may work in mysterious ways, Her plans being…well…ineffable. But…this proves that if She intends for something to happen, it does. In another way than expected, maybe, but still. And…not necessarily a worse way than the one originally intended.” Crowley just gave a noncommittal grunt. Aziraphale continued: “I mean…look: I’ve wondered for millennia what it would have been like to meet Raphael and to work with him…what he’d have been like…and…I kept trying to find out what exactly had happened to him…and I didn’t even realise that I already knew. I knew what it would have been like, because…without knowing it, I had the angel I was searching for right in front of my eyes. You. I just didn’t know that I already knew. That I’d already found him…or he found me, actually. And now that I know, I feel kind of foolish for not realising it earlier. Who you are…who you _really_ are…”

Crowley interrupted him with an exasperated hiss. “Will you ssstop that now?! Ssstop claiming I’m ssstill that angel! I’m not! I’m no longer Raphael! Raphael Fell! Raphael Fell and he died! Raphael’sss gone! Raphael burnt and Fell into a pit of boiling sssulphur and perished! Trussst me, I’ve been there! The archangel Raphael doesssn’t exissst anymore! Raph-” He stopped abruptly, closing his eyes and wincing in pain. Aziraphale stared at him in shock and with increasing concern. “Crowley…?”, he asked, getting up to crouch down in front of his friend. The demon seemed to try to swallow, but apparently, he had trouble with it. It was only now, as he was taking a closer look at Crowley, that Aziraphale noticed and realised. “You…you’re bleeding…” “I know…”, the demon finally croaked, trying to wipe the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. “Would…some water help?”, Aziraphale ventured. Crowley just nodded, so the angel got up, went to the kitchen for a glass. In a spontaneous decision, he miracled some soothing essences into the water, hoping that this would help rather than make things worse. He returned with the glass and handed it to the demon, who pretty much downed most of it, only to use a quick miracle to fill it up again and then began to take a few slower sips. “Thanks…”, he finally muttered, sounding somewhat sheepish. “Better?”, the angel asked, still concerned. “Yeah…better…Thanks, Angel…”

Aziraphale plopped back down on the sofa beside him. “Was that…It was because of the name, wasn’t it?” Crowley nodded. “Told ya ’s not recommendable…”, he replied, still slurring the words a bit, “As I said, those names were taken from us, along with God’s grace, we…have no right to use them…We can say them, but it’s…not pleasant. ‘s actually probably a good way to torture a demon: Find out their former name and force them to say it over and over until it cuts off their tongue…” The angel shuddered. This was a harsh punishment indeed – not just losing your name, your identity, but being forbidden to as much as say it and being punished like this if you disobeyed. He wondered what else he didn’t know about the nature of demons, despite all the long years of his friendship with one. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to cause you any pain…” But Crowley just shook his head. “Was my own fault. Don’t fret, Angel…”

The fact that Crowley, as usual, called him ‘Angel’ now made Aziraphale somewhat wary. “What…what about my name? Does that…hurt you too? Saying that?” This time, Crowley actually looked at him in surprise. “What? No, why should it? That’s your name, not mine. No trouble for me saying ‘Aziraphale’ as often as I like. It may…contain my former name, in a way, but it’s not my name. It’s yours. If I meet someone called…well…Raphael, that’s no trouble either, calling them that. Just can’t use that name referring to myself. At least…not too often in a row.” The angel sighed in relief and nodded. This was something he definitely wouldn’t want – for his name to cause Crowley any discomfort or even pain. “Okay…that’s…that’s alright, then”, Aziraphale muttered, almost more to himself that to Crowley.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the demon taking a few more sips of water. With what he’d just witnessed, Aziraphale began to understand why Crowley insisted that he was no longer who he once used to be. But still. The angel sighed. “You know…I…I do understand your point. But…I also think that…no matter what you say or what you may believe, I still don’t think that…your former self is dead. You’re still you and that’s a part of you. And…after all, you even used your angelic name. Used it often enough, obviously, for humans to start telling stories about you. I really should have noticed – I mean…after all, the hints were plenty: The association with snakes, and…they often describe the archangel Raphael…you…with red hair…and…dark wings…so…I feel I’ve been rather blind…” Crowley just sighed and muttered something like “whatever”. He felt too weary to argue. Aziraphale continued: “I mean…you remember who you were, you can still do all that healing, you still have power enough to…well…anyway. And…as I told you, those memos I read reminded me of _you_. So…obviously, there are things that still remain. The way I see it, you may have changed. Considerably so, perhaps. And…you probably lost a lot of your former self. You certainly lost what made you an angel. But Falling didn’t kill you.” “Maybe”, Crowley whispered, hardly audible but still loud enough for Aziraphale to hear it. The angel smiled and finally did put his hand on Crowley’s arm. “I’m sure of it”, he said.

There was another stretch of silence and Crowley began to hope that this topic was over and dealt with. However, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t come up with something else to talk about. Aziraphale still seemed pensive. After a while, the angel began to speak again: “Crowley…there’s one thing I don’t really understand, though. I mean…you were an archangel. And…you still have enough power to do things I could not. We both know that. I…I know Hell has a…system of different ranks, just like Heaven. Sort of…copied from Upstairs, I suppose…” This earned him a snort and a nod from the demon. “So”, he continued, “why…why aren’t you…how do I put this…further up the ladder? I mean…shouldn’t you be…of pretty high rank Downstairs? Like…Lucifer’s right-hand man?”

Crowley actually turned to look at him now, eyebrows raised and looking almost somewhat surprised. “Oh…uhm…I, uh…ngk…See, I…was never much into middle to upper management. Not my scene, really, all that bureaucracy and stuff. I…was pretty much a failure as an archangel, anyway…and…and Hell…well, uh…they sorta copied Heaven’s system, but it works differently. They…didn’t like the fixed, assigned ranks that you’re created with. Was actually one of the points of criticism I had, too. It inspires jealousy, after all. So…in Hell, they were all more for making your own…career, in a way. But once you’ve found your place…things stay pretty much fixed then. They thought of it as an improvement, but it turned out just equally as bad. Or worse, even. See…the question wasn’t so much what your rank used to be up in Heaven, but rather how much of a ruthless and cruel bully you are. All on the same level at first – well, except for Satan, of course – and then go backstab and fight each other like a pack of rabid dogs, fighting for the best bones. And…honestly, I’ve never been much into that, either. So…”

He shrugged, but Aziraphale wasn’t fully convinced. “But…surely, as a former archangel, you’d have enough power to come out on top…” Crowley sighed. “Well…as I said, I’m not much into management. Or into bullying, backstabbing and fighting others. Wasn’t really worth it all, anyway. B’sides…you’ve done your research. Then tell me: What’s the archangel Raphael known for? What’s his specialty?” Aziraphale frowned. “Well…healing…” “Right. Not the best…gift in those circumstances.” The angel raised his eyebrows in surprise. “In a fight? Well, Crowley, I beg to differ! I’d say that it’s a very useful talent, especially in situations like those!” But the demon replied with a bitter laugh. “Yeah, right. ‘Go on, beat me to a pulp, tear me to bits, I don’t mind, I can just heal myself afterwards’ – great!” Aziraphale slightly rolled his eyes. “That’s not how I meant it. But…just look back at the last few weeks: I’d say your talents were pretty useful. Won’t you agree to that? Maybe you should be a bit more grateful for the gifts you have…”

Crowley huffed and rolled his eyes at this, before simply replying: “Well, anyway…as I said, I wasn’t particularly interested in having a job like…like Beelzebub or Dagon or…well…And…I’m actually not that low in the pecking order…If you really think about it…I guess I did end up with quite a good position: Lotsa freedom, they pretty much left me alone, mostly, up here on Earth, hardly any checking up as long as the reports kept flowing…What higher position could I possibly have wanted? And…I mean, I do have a reputation, ya know? Serpent of Eden, first temptation and all that…They…used to love me Downstairs. Got my orders from Satan himself now and again, and…well, they certainly wouldn’t have entrusted the Antichrist to just any demon, so…I’d say I did pretty well, don’t you?” Relieved to see a smile creeping back onto his friend’s face, Aziraphale couldn’t help smiling himself and agreeing. Honestly, he, too, couldn’t see Crowley doing a job involving a stuffy desk and paperwork. It seemed that, indeed, he’d found the best position for himself. After all, he was right: He’d often enough claimed that they loved him in Hell, they’d left him to his own devices, largely unchecked, to do, mostly, as he pleased.

“Well, you certainly aren’t the usual, everyday demon. I’m not sure if you were truly a failure as an archangel, as you claim, but…I guess, to be honest, you’re as good at being a demon as I am at being an angel. We pretty much messed up in our respective jobs.” This actually made Crowley chuckle. “Right…point taken…”, he replied. The angel sighed. “But…you are a great healer. That’s what you were created to do…And…well…when I look up at the stars in the night sky, I see perfection. So…I don’t really see why you’d think of yourself as a failure…” Crowley let out a breath he’d apparently been holding. “Well…I Fell. Guess that’s enough to answer that.” Aziraphale cocked his head. “You never really told me why, though. You…I often wondered because you never really struck me as…well…particularly evil. I couldn’t see a reason for you to belong with the others in Hell.” Crowley shook his head. “Not all demons are necessarily evil. Or are ya gonna tell me now that all those self-righteous white-winged bigots up there are inherently good?” Aziraphale just silently shook his head. Crowley certainly had a point there.

For a moment, Crowley hesitated, swallowing, but then he made up his mind and continued. “You…wanna know why I Fell, I take it? I…I told you I just…sauntered vaguely downwards. Not really Falling…Well…the truth is…I didn’t really mean to…You…uhm…you said you saw my memos. Seems I…asked too many questions. Too much criticism, too much doubt, too many complaints. God was a bit…tetchy back then, as you’ll recall. And I guess…She just couldn’t handle that much doubt and all those questions, especially not coming from an archangel. So…me hanging around a bit with Lucifer and his pals, who were also asking uncomfortable questions…I guess that was…just too much. That was it. I didn’t mean to take up arms against other angels. ‘specially not since I was…made to heal, not to destroy. Was never much of a fighter. But well, you know how it was, everyone calling everyone a traitor back then. I just ended up on the side of the Fallen.”

Aziraphale just watched him for a moment, before he finally nodded in understanding. “So you didn’t mean to Fall…” Crowley shrugged. “I still ended up Falling. Still unforgiven and unforgiveable. Kicked out like garbage. No longer wanted.” “You’re not garbage, Crowley. Please don’t think of yourself like that.” “’s true, though. Doesn’t matter what _I_ think. _God_ kicked me out, along with the others. Admittedly, I…feel quite fine, being what I am. Doesn’t mean that bit of it doesn’t hurt.” To his surprise, he felt the angel’s arm wrapping around him. “I’m so sorry, my dear”, Aziraphale muttered – not for the first time that day. “’s fine”, Crowley replied with a soft smirk.

“So you didn’t mean to Fall, but…you don’t really mind the outcome?”, the angel asked. The demon made a noise somewhere between a huff and a chuckle. “Yeah, well…as I said, still better at being a demon than at being an angel. Don’t really miss being one. At least…most parts of it. There are…a few things I do miss, but…as I said, I’m quite happy with who and what I am now. Wouldn’t wanna change that.” Aziraphale smiled at him. “Well, I guess it suits you rather well, being…well, you.” Crowley hummed, somewhat amused.

“What was it like?”, the angel finally asked, his voice hardly a whisper. Crowley turned to face him. “Falling? Uh…ngh…I, uhm…I’m not sure ya want to know that…” “And if I do?” The demon sighed, once again staring into space. “Well…fine. It’s…I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. It’s…agony. Your wings burst into flames and get burnt to ashes, down to the charred bones. It all just…grows back later – which isn’t a particularly great experience either, I can tell you. And…while your wings are on fire…you…you feel how your very self, the very core of your being is…torn apart…ripped to shreds…twisted, warped and…changed…and…God’s grace, the essence of what makes you who and what you are, just…ripped out of you. Gone. There’s just…a bleeding, empty hole. In a way, that is. A lot of it you might only realise afterwards, when the pain is somewhat less…overwhelming. All-encompassing. After you’ve managed to crawl out of some pool of boiling sulphur and realise that you’re still alive, but…at the same time, you’re…changed. And a part of you…the very centre of what makes you you just…gone…destroyed.”

Crowley took a shuddering breath, turning back to look at Aziraphale once again. The angel looked back at him with something akin to horror in his blue eyes – but also with compassion and, as far as that was possible, understanding. He still had his arm wrapped around the demon and now gave him a hopefully comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all this. And…no matter what you believe, I refuse to believe that you deserved any of it. You didn’t”, Aziraphale said softly. “’s fine…Was a long time ago…”, Crowley tried to reassure him. “And…I don’t think it’s something you’ll need to worry about for yourself. If God meant for you to Fall, you would have. And even if you should…well…we’re still on our own side, so…I…uhm…you…you said you wouldn’t leave me if I need you and…ngh…well…I…I guess you know that’s mutual? I mean…I saved your sorry ass a number of times, after all”, he ended with a lopsided smirk. Aziraphale replied with a warm smile and a “thank you”. But then, something else occurred to the angel: “Is…is that why you didn’t want me to try and heal you? Because…you didn’t want me to see…?” Crowley struggled for a moment, before he finally admitted: “Ngk…well…partly, yes…Not the only reason, though…Just…one more reason, apart from the ones I told you…” Aziraphale just nodded.

“I do believe you’re right, though…If the Almighty intended for me to Fall, I would have. After all, I’ve been…collaborating with the enemy for centuries”, the angel pondered, making the term ‘enemy’ sound like an endearment. “I still think it’s ironic, though…How all of this has…come full circle, in a way. I mean…we were meant to work together from the start…and we did…we do…just…in a different way, and I dare say, maybe a better one.” This time, Crowley actually smiled as Aziraphale said this. “Ha…you know…when I ended up working for Gabriel, after the War, I…well, I thought it was rather a peculiar thing that I actually got assigned to do…part of what should have been Raphael’s job. Your job. Guarding the Eastern Gate, flaming sword and all. I…often wondered what Raphael would have done in my place…with that sword…” Crowley merely shrugged. He’d never been a fighter. If he hadn’t Fallen, who knew, probably none of the whole apple business would have happened. He was not going to go into that now.

“Wait…”, Aziraphale frowned, “is…is that why you came up there? Because…?” When he looked at Crowley, the demon seemed oddly embarrassed. He struggled through a string of unintelligible noises, before he managed to reply. “Uh…ngk…well, I…uhm…hn…I…They…jussst told me to make sssome trouble and…I…ngh…I might have felt a bit…shaken after what happened…I…didn’t really know where to go…or what to do. Couldn’t…jussst return to Hell, jusst like that…Ssso…I…guesss I acted on impulssse…and…ended up up there…next to you…Wondered who they’d put there, instead of me…and…I…well…honestly, I…kinda expected you to just smite me. But…you didn’t. Instead you…you were kind. You…just talked to me. Even though you knew. You knew what I was, what I’d done. And still. You even protected me from the rain. As you’d helped those humans. I thought, hey, there’s an angel who’s different. Bit of a misfit, really. Like…like me, in a way. And still very unlike me. And…maybe the only angel who actually behaved like one. Who cared, genuinely cared.” Aziraphale stared back at Crowley, blushing and blinking a few times through the tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh”, was all he managed, trying to swallow the lump forming in his throat. “Oh, Crowley…” With a sniffle, he gave the demon another squeeze and a somewhat teary-eyed smile. A moment later, Crowley just let out a sigh that was equal parts relief and exhaustion and leaned against the angel’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the notes to the last chapter: This is "part 2", because it would have been too long for one single chapter...  
> There are still some things they'll have to deal with and come to terms with, but at least one big thing is out there now and they actually talked, properly. Eventually, they'll be able to handle all the rest, too...  
> Hope you have a good read! Stay safe!


	24. Worse Than Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their lengthy talk, Crowley intends to get some sleep - alas, his rest is interrupted by a rather nasty nightmare. Fortunately, Aziraphale manages to wake him...

After their extensive talk, both angel and demon felt rather exhausted. They’d drunk a couple of glasses of wine afterwards, but Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to notice that the demon was tired. “Would you like to get some sleep?”, he offered, “You can stay here if you want…” Crowley just sighed and nodded. Aziraphale’s own thoughts were still chasing each other and he could only guess that things were similar for Crowley, too. “You’d…let me stay?”, the demon finally asked. Aziraphale huffed and slightly shook his head. “Of course you can stay. You needn’t ask. You’re always welcome here, you know that. Our own side, remember? Just like you told me back then.” Crowley smiled and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. His relief was almost palpable. “Crowley…you look incredibly tired…and I guess we both need to process quite a few things…Let’s get you upstairs, hm? The bed is probably more comfortable than the sofa, I presume…” The demon didn’t protest, and so the angel found himself alone a short while later, back in his familiar armchair, pondering over all the things he’d learned that day.

There were still quite a few questions he’d like to have answers to – whatever had happened between Crowley and Gabriel, for instance, what creating stars was like, and many more – but for now, Aziraphale was determined to let things settle and rest for a bit. After all, in a way, Crowley had told him more in the last few hours than in the last millennia. The angel sighed. To his relief, he found that what he knew now didn’t really change anything after all. Sure, it had been a bit of a shock at first, especially considering his own experiences with the other archangels. But since, in a way, he’d always known that Crowley could do a few things he himself couldn’t, he felt that it was okay. This was Crowley, the demon he’d known for over six millennia, his best friend, the one he…well…loved. And while neither he nor Crowley were very much into fighting (although being a principality meant that he was supposed to be a protector of humans and the Earth, so Aziraphale had been trained, of course, he just preferred to avoid violence if he could) they both had always known that, when push came to shove, they could rely on each other. And who knew? Maybe knowing that one of them actually had the power reserves of an archangel at his disposal wasn’t such a bad thing after all. No, thinking about it now, in the calm and quiet of the night, Aziraphale found that he felt quite alright with this knowledge, and he was glad that Crowley had finally opened up and told him.

Having come to terms with his thoughts, the angel decided that perhaps it was time for some tea. He got up to make his way upstairs, to the kitchen, wondering if he should stop and check in on Crowley on the way. Thus, he slowed his steps a bit while passing the bedroom door, still wondering if he should or shouldn’t, when he heard a noise from inside. It sounded like Crowley was…whimpering or crying. Something was definitely wrong. Worried, the angel opened the door, his plans for making tea quite forgotten. He found the demon asleep, but tossing and turning, muttering and moaning miserably. “Crowley?”, the angel asked, but that wasn’t enough to wake the demon from his fitful sleep. Carefully, Aziraphale inched closer, repeating his friend’s name, but to no avail – Crowley just kept mumbling and whimpering incoherently. By now, it was clear to Aziraphale that Crowley was obviously having a nightmare. He had no idea what would happen if he woke him up, but at the same time, he definitely couldn’t just let his friend suffer any longer. So, he sat down on the bed, grabbed the demon by his shoulders and began to shake him, gently at first, but when it didn’t have any effect, he used some more force and repeatedly called Crowley’s name. So what if, in a state somewhere between dream and wakefulness, the demon might lash out at him? Right now, Aziraphale found that he didn’t care. Crowley’s well-being was more important now.

“Crowley! Crowley, wake up!” Aziraphale had the feeling that, finally, Crowley did seem to react somewhat to the fact that he was still shaking him and calling his name, but getting the thrashing, whimpering demon to actually wake up wasn’t that easy. In fact, the angel was mildly surprised that, until now, no wings, claws or fangs were involved. “Crowley!” That last shout finally seemed to do the trick. The demon in question awoke with a start and a cry, staring at Aziraphale, serpentine eyes fully yellow and wide with panic. He sputtered out some unintelligible consonants, while Aziraphale tried to get him to calm down: “Crowley? Hey, it’s alright, my dear, everything’s fine…You…you were having a nightmare…It’s alright, it was just a dream…” “Hnng…”, was all Crowley could manage, as he clung to the angel like a drowning man to the last plank of his boat. He was still shaking and breathing way too quickly, so Aziraphale just pulled him into a hug and held him for a while, until he seemed to slowly calm down a bit.

“Sssorry…”, Crowley finally muttered, his iron grip on the angel slowly relaxing. Aziraphale gently disentangled himself, but kept his hold on his friend’s shoulders, moving a bit so that he could actually look at him. Visibly ashamed, Crowley avoided his gaze. “It’s alright, dear, no need to apologise”, Aziraphale tried to reassure him, “you…must have had quite the nightmare…” Crowley just nodded, still not looking up. Aziraphale frowned a bit and cocked his head. “Do you…have these often?” The demon huffed. “D’ya really think I’d like ssleeping if that wass the cassse?” “Okay, fair point. That’s a no, I take it…Do you…erm…want to talk about it?” Crowley seemed to hesitate. “It might help, you know?”, Aziraphale tried to encourage him. But then, something occurred to him – he thought back to all the things they’d talked about and the suspicion caused him to feel somewhat sick. “Was…was it about your Fall?”, he asked softly. If it was that, then the angel would at least partly have to blame himself for it. After all, he’d been the one asking all those questions, practically forcing his friend to dig up those old memories.

This question, however, finally did cause Crowley to look up at him. But to Aziraphale’s surprise – and initial relief – the demon shook his head. “Ussed to be that…if…if I had the occasional nightmare, now and then”, Crowley began to explain, “but…not thiss time…Hassn’t been that for…for quite a while…Thisss…thiss wass worsse, actually…” Aziraphale frowned. “Worse than Falling?” It was only when Crowley nodded that he realised that he’d asked this out loud. Crowley felt the angel’s questioning gaze, so he sighed and began to explain: “It was…You…you know, the day the world was supposed to end, when…when you managed to…to get yourself discorporated? And…when the bookshop burnt down?” Aziraphale nodded, realisation slowly dawning on him. Crowley looked up at him, anguish in his yellow eyes. “Well…’t was that all over again…just…jussst with Hellfire and…and you…I…I couldn’t…”, he swallowed, unable to continue, his voice breaking – but he didn’t have to say anything further, Aziraphale understood. “Oh, Crowley…I…I’m so sorry…”, he said, pulling the demon into another hug and absentmindedly rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles.

Crowley took a few deep breaths and managed to slowly calm himself down. Everything was fine, Aziraphale was fine, he was right here, holding him, comforting him, the bookshop wasn’t burning, it couldn’t be – after all, neither Heaven nor Hell could get in here without either of them allowing it. He heard Aziraphale say something along those lines as well – they were safe, the bookshop was safe, just like Crowley’s flat and the Bentley, nobody could set the bookshop ablaze with Hellfire. “I know…I know…Ssstupid, me, I know…”, he muttered, but that, in turn, caused Aziraphale to move, hold him at arm’s length and give him a stern look. “No, it’s not stupid, Crowley, you’re not stupid. And dreams…well, they aren’t exactly subject to logic or to the things we normally know to be true. It’s alright.” _It seems…you don’t want to lose me just as much as I don’t want to lose you_ , the angel realised in an afterthought but couldn’t quite bring himself to put it into words. Crowley just nodded, still looking somewhat miserable, but no longer as panic-stricken and embarrassed as before.

Aziraphale sighed softly. “Do you…want to try and sleep again?” Crowley seemed hesitant, but then the angel remembered why he’d originally come upstairs and had another suggestion: “Or…would you like some tea?” The demon nodded, so Aziraphale vanished into the kitchen. Crowley could hear him bustle around there, putting the kettle on and all that (and hearing all those noises helped him to stay calm, to reassure himself that the angel was there and was fine), but he still sighed in relief when Aziraphale returned with two mugs of tea and handed him one. The angel sat down on the bed and for a while they just drank their tea in silence. It helped, somehow. _Maybe the angel is right after all and this stuff does cure almost anything_ , Crowley mused, almost smiling to himself.

“So…do you…want to try and sleep again? Or…would you prefer to stay awake?”, the angel finally asked. Crowley sighed, pondering for a moment. He _was_ tired, but he was also afraid to go back to sleep. And…if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know if he could bear being alone right now. Unsure what to say and how to phrase it, he opened his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t manage to say anything. “Crowley?” The angel gave him an encouraging look, and so, he finally sighed again and then explained, somewhat sheepishly: “I…Well…I’d like to ssleep…’m tired…but…can’t…I…’m sscared that it’ll jusst…ssstart all over again and…and…I…I…” “You what?” “I don’t wanna be alone”, Crowley blurted out.

“Oh…you…you’d want me to stay?” “Ngk…can’t…really assk you to sstay…Rather boring, forcing you to sit here and keep me company while I…doze off…” “But…it would help you sleep again if I’m here?” “Hn…y-yesss…guess so…Having you close, knowing that…that you’re alright…m-might…be reassuring…” Crowley’s voice was barely more than a whisper and he was grateful for the darkness in the room that was hiding the burning blush on his cheeks. He looked down, but he heard Aziraphale sigh. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, my dear? Of course I’ll stay if this helps. What…what do you want me to do? Is it just…my mere presence here or…do you want me to…I don’t know…”

Crowley noticed that the angel seemed almost as insecure as he himself. “Could you…maybe jusssst…hold my hand a bit?”, he asked, only to almost bite his tongue off the second those words had left his mouth. For a moment, there was complete silence in the room. But then, Aziraphale began to speak: “You…you mean…some physical contact might be reassuring? Being close?” Crowley couldn’t manage anything beyond a few consonants and an embarrassed nod. “Alright then…jolly good…Then…I suggest you…just scoot over a bit and…and I’ll just…hop in beside you…? Might be more effective than just holding your hand…” Crowley’s eyes grew wide at that, he sputtered a few more incoherent noises, but he did move to the side a bit. Aziraphale had no idea where this sudden flash of boldness had come from, but now that it was out there and Crowley was actually moving over, he couldn’t back out, and so he took his shoes off and crawled into the bed beside the demon, lay down on his back and extended his arm in a gesture of invitation. If this helped Crowley calm down and get some more sleep, it was the least he could do, right? What friends were for, wasn’t it?

The demon hesitated for a second, but then he inched closer, allowing the angel to wrap his arm around him, and snuggled up against the angel’s side, placing his head on Aziraphale’s chest and snaking his arm and leg around him. For a while, both of them were rather tense, but then, Crowley sighed. This actually felt…good. And it helped. Hearing the angel’s steady heartbeat, feeling him, his warm, soft body, breathing in that familiar scent – old parchment, cocoa, tea, Aziraphale’s cologne, a faint whiff of ozone, something akin to candles (oddly enough), and something else he could never quite place but would recognise anywhere, something very essentially Aziraphale – all that helped him to calm down, banish the last lurking remnants of that terrifying nightmare, and…just feel safe…and home.

After the first flash of bold bravery, Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he miracled up a book for himself, illuminated the pages with a soft glow and began to read, trying to get his body to relax. He’d noticed that, at first, Crowley beside him was just as tense as he was, but after a while, he felt the demon relax as well. Aziraphale smiled to himself, his eyes still focused on the softly glowing pages – as it seemed, Crowley was falling asleep again. _Good_ , the angel thought. He seemed to recall that he’d once read somewhere that it helped snakes to calm down if they could hold onto something. He wasn’t quite sure if this was correct, but as far as the Serpent of Eden was concerned, it seemed to work. As he kept on reading, he began absentmindedly to run his fingertips down Crowley’s side and then slowly back up again. The angel didn’t even notice what he was doing, until he felt the demon shiver slightly and heard him sigh ever so softly. Blushing, Aziraphale froze and stopped his hand at once. He hadn’t meant to do this – and anyway, he’d been pretty sure that the demon was asleep by now!

Crowley grunted and raised his head, frowning. “Why d’ya sstop tha’, Angel?”, he slurred sleepily. If at all possible, Aziraphale blushed even more – he was more than grateful for the current darkness in the room that was only disturbed by the light from the pages of his book and the light shining in through the door left ajar. “Oh…you…you like that?”, he finally managed, somewhat surprised. But Crowley just hummed in agreement and resumed his previous position. “’s nice…”, he mumbled, sounding half asleep. “Oh…well…jolly good, then…”, the angel muttered and restarted the movement, this time consciously. He heard the demon sigh again and after a while, Crowley’s body against his own seemed to grow a good deal heavier, mainly because the demon went completely slack. This time, Aziraphale was sure that Crowley had indeed fallen asleep again. Now and again, he could hear a soft, little snore and some peaceful, low, snaky hisses from the demon. The angel cast him a fond smile, knowing that, once awake, Crowley would _never_ admit to doing this. Then, he continued reading for a while longer until he dozed off himself. Crowley slept soundly and peacefully for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after some unintentional snuggling, it was about time for some intentional cuddles...even though neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are yet brave enough to actually say what they feel...But they'll get there...  
> I truly believe that, taken the fact that Crowley loves sleeping, he cannot be bothered by nightmares very often...but they might come, now and again, especially after such an emotional rollercoaster...  
> Anyway, I hope you have a good read - stay safe, everyone!  
> PS: I edited this and added the fact that the angel smells a bit of candles, somehow...while Crowley himself may just remind Aziraphale of matches and fireworks. The latter had always been in my head, the candle-thing was mentioned by a friend on Twitter - and combining these two made a rather nice headcanon of them completing each other in this way...


	25. Things Gained and Things Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Aziraphale gets a phone call, Crowley is left alone in the bookshop. It turns out, eventually, that Crowley isn't as done with all the things they talked about and with his nightmare as he thought he was...

“Ouch!” Aziraphale inhaled sharply and shook his hand, frowning with irritation. The pot he’d burnt his fingers on clanked on the cooker. Plates in hand, Crowley turned around to see what was going on, a smirk on his face. “Angel? You alright? Pot too heavy?” The angel in question huffed. “Very funny, you fiend. Well, the pot was rather hot, in fact…” The demon just sighed, rolled his eyes, put the plates down and came over. “Well, then why won’t you let me handle that, hm? Demon? I can deal with Hellfire, a pot of boiling water with some eggs is really nothing. Go on, move, you set the table instead…” Aziraphale was too stunned to complain and thus found himself setting the breakfast table while Crowley took care of the food. The rest of the previous night had been quiet, without any further nightmares, the morning had been somewhat awkward, but surprisingly enough, that phase had soon been dealt with this time. _Maybe_ , Aziraphale wondered, _this is a side effect of all the things that have happened recently_. It hadn’t felt all that wrong, waking up in the same bed.

They soon were back to their usual easy banter over breakfast, neither of them being in any mood to address Crowley’s nightmare or all the things they’d talked about the previous evening. After all, it was all settled, wasn’t it? Aziraphale finally knew the truth, the whole truth, about Crowley’s angelic past, and Crowley himself had learned quite a few things he hadn’t known before as well. Some things to come to terms with for both of them, but right now, Crowley seemed to have no intentions to talk about any of that any further and Aziraphale certainly wouldn’t push him. The mood was light and easy, the angel’s presence and their chatter helping Crowley to keep the memories of the nightmare pushed firmly to the back of his mind. _Not dealing with that now, certainly not, thank you very much_ , he thought, rather light-heartedly.

After breakfast, they soon found themselves downstairs in the bookshop. Aziraphale contemplated opening for the day, even though he thought that it was about time to rearrange the books again, too. Crowley just rolled his eyes when the angel tried to explain his predicament, but then, quite unexpectedly, the telephone rang. Both angel and demon stared at each other for a moment. “That’s…the telephone”, Aziraphale muttered. “Uh…yup, I can hear that, Angel, ‘m not deaf.” When Aziraphale didn’t make any move, Crowley continued: “Well…aren’t ya gonna pick up?” “Well, it can’t be you, you’re here…” “It _could_ be me, I do have my phone with me”, Crowley mentioned with a grin, “but there’s really no point, me calling you to mess with you when I can just talk to you directly and annoy you in person.” Aziraphale huffed slightly, but then he shrugged, turned and shuffled off to answer the phone. Whoever was trying to call seemed to be rather persistent. Crowley heard the angel mutter something along the lines of “if I don’t pick up, we’ll never know…Good Lord, must be important…”, before he picked up.

Crowley didn’t bother trying to listen to what Aziraphale was talking about on the telephone or who he was talking to. If it was important, the angel would surely tell him. It seemed to be something about books and the angel ended up chattering with the person on the other end of the line for quite some time. When he finally returned, his smile could easily rival the sun in brightness. “What are ya grinning about like a Cheshire cat, Angel?” “Oh, it’s simply marvellous, Crowley! A while ago, I made some inquiries concerning a first edition I’ve been searching for for quite a while and the lovely lady who just called happens to be an antiquarian bookseller who actually has this book in her collection. In pristine condition for its age, she says. And as luck would have it, she is looking for a book I happen to have twice! Ha, this even solves my earlier predicament – I won’t open the shop and I won’t rearrange the books! Crowley, dear…do you terribly mind? I…I’d like to go and pay her a visit right now, taking my book along and…hopefully, I’ll return with another book…I won’t be too long…”

Crowley chuckled. Aziraphale’s excitement over books was always rather endearing. The demon shook his head and smiled fondly. “Nah, no problem, Angel. Go ahead, get your book. Or…d’ya want me to drive you?” “Oh…no, my dear fellow, thank you, but it’s not that far and I do think a walk outside would be rather enjoyable now. And then it’s just a short bus ride.” The demon suspected that Aziraphale probably just had tucked in a bit too much at breakfast and didn’t really feel up to a fast ride in the car, but he didn’t say anything. If Aziraphale wanted to take a walk, then why not? “Want me to come along?”, Crowley asked. “Only if you want to…I assume me and someone else chattering on and on about antique books would probably be rather boring for you…” The demon scowled and nodded: “Yeah, quite…Well, I’ll stay here then…Guard the shop, ya know…” “You’re sure you’ll be fine?” But Crowley just rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.” This elicited a slightly indignant huff from the angel, but then he shook his head good-humouredly. He would certainly not let Crowley’s teasing spoil his excellent mood this morning. “Just make yourself at home, then…You’re quite at home here, anyway…I won’t be too long”, he assured the demon. A short while later, Aziraphale left the shop, the bell at the front door jingling merrily behind him.

The angel walked briskly, with a light spring to his step and a smile on his face – he had acquired so many books over the years, but the excitement of possibly finding a new one and taking it home hadn’t lessened at all. Meanwhile, Crowley lounged on the sofa in the bookshop, playing on his phone and contemplating what he should do with his time while Aziraphale was gone. The angel had said he wouldn’t be long, but he’d definitely be gone for a few hours. The games on his phone began to bore the demon, so he began to stalk through the shop instead. Should he perhaps turn into a snake and lie down in one of the windows where the sun was shining in? A bit of basking in the sun surely sounded like a good idea…It would probably scare quite a few passers-by, too…But after some consideration, the demon decided on something else altogether. With a nod to himself, he materialised his wings…

On his way back from the bookseller, Aziraphale smiled even more brightly than before. It was a bit later than he’d expected, but it had been worth it. He’d left his shop with a book he’d been ready to part with, one he’d had two copies of, and he’d had a truly lovely chat with the nice lady who wanted to give him a book he didn’t have and was searching for, in exchange for the spare copy he’d brought. It had all gone well: Her copy was in amazing condition (same as his, but after all, he’d had his copy almost from new, even though he couldn’t tell that to any unsuspecting human), she’d been more than happy with them basically just amicably swapping the books and then they’d ended up having tea and biscuits while chattering on over…well…books, mostly.

Now, after a bus ride and a walk, he was almost back at the bookshop, strolling along the familiar streets and wondering what Crowley had been up to while he was gone. _Hopefully, he’s alright_ , he thought, his smile wavering a little. When he opened the door to the bookshop, the first thing he heard was music. Queen, definitely. By now, he was familiar enough with that band to recognise them in between all that…bebop or whatever it was. He even quite liked them by now – and not just because the music always reminded him of Crowley. The angel smiled and shook his head. He placed his newest acquisition on his desk, letting his fingers run over the ancient cover in a fond caress and mentally checking his shelves for the perfect spot to place this book. Well, he’d take care of that later! Now he wanted to find Crowley – and for that, he figured, he’d have to follow the music.

“Crowley?”, the angel asked, but he didn’t get an answer. What he did notice, however, was that the demon seemed to be singing along to the song that was playing. What was he singing? _‘These Are the Days of Our Lives’_ , Aziraphale seemed to recall this song was called. He finally found his friend, sitting cross-legged on the floor, singing along and preening his wings, obviously quite lost in it all – he hadn’t even noticed Aziraphale yet. The angel smirked. “Crowley?”, he asked once again, causing the demon to gasp and jump. “Oh…sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…You were quite absorbed in it all, weren’t you?” “Ngk…” “Sorry…I really didn’t…Please, don’t let me disturb you, I really didn’t mean…”, the angel began to stammer, his bad conscience kicking in when he saw Crowley’s startled expression. But by now, the demon caught himself and switched off the music with a flick of his hand. “Nah…’s fine…I was about done anyway…How…how was your book hunt?” Aziraphale smiled warmly and sat down on the floor beside Crowley. “Oh, very successful, actually. Absolutely marvellous and delightful! Such a nice lady! And…the book! Perfect condition! And we had such a lovely chat, too. She has quite a few of the books I own as well. We ended up comparing our collections and…well…” Crowley smirked. “Sounds good. I’d have been bored to death”, he said.

“I hope you didn’t get too bored here”, Aziraphale replied. “Oh…just a little. But then I rearranged all your books and then it was fine…” The angel huffed, looked at him in mock offence and gave him a friendly slap on the arm. “You did not, you wily serpent!” Crowley’s snicker turned into a laugh and Aziraphale couldn’t help but join in. “Preening your wings?”, he finally asked. “Well…thought that was obvious, Angel…Sorry, didn’t hear you come in…” “Well, I didn’t mean to jump-scare you…” The demon smirked, somewhat self-consciously. “I bet my face was priceless, eh, Angel?” Aziraphale gave him a friendly smile. “Well…erm…As I said, it wasn’t my intention to…But…you know, I…You seemed so…lost in it all and…relaxed…” Crowley smirked rather shyly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. “Well…told ya, I find it quite…relaxing…and it’s not like I had anything else to do…” The angel’s warm smile was reassuring. “Well”, Aziraphale said, “You know, if you ask me…you could really sing more often…” “’s prob’ly off-key, though…” “But only occasionally…and charmingly so, actually. I…I must admit, I find it…rather endearing…” “Endearing?” Crowley sounded – and looked – quite incredulous, but Aziraphale nodded. For a moment, the demon seemed to struggle for words, finally just settling on a huff and a shrug.

Aziraphale watched his friend for a moment. There seemed to be something on Crowley’s mind – the angel knew him well enough to notice that. “Crowley? Are you okay, my dear? What is it?” The demon took a deep breath, frowning slightly. “Uhm…ah, well…nng…Ya know…I…I love music…Sure do…I jusst…I, uh…I usssed to be able to…ah…nothing. Forget it.” He waved his hand dismissively and shook his head. Now it was the angel’s turn to frown. “Used to be able to what, Crowley?”, he asked. The demon closed his eyes, before he finally managed to answer. “Sing. Properly, I mean. I mean…ya know…Creation, all of it…it…it was all…It involved and required music. And…I created stars…so…yes, I used to be able to…actually sing. Lost that, though…when…when I Fell…” “Oh…”, Aziraphale gazed at his friend with unveiled compassion, “I…I’m so sorry…Actually, I wondered about this…I mean, I know about the music in Creation, and I know you made stars, so…But I didn’t want to…well…prod you with any further questions, to be honest…”

Crowley sighed, letting out a breath he’d been holding. He couldn’t really look at Aziraphale right now, but now that he’d started, he felt that he had to explain. “Well…I guess it’s still good enough for a lullaby or stuff like that…I can do that. But…if it gets more…complex or longer than that…It’s…ironic, ya know? Lotsa demons like music. And…not all of us lost the ability to sing properly. Jusst…just those who…were actually involved in Creation itself. On a higher level. Like…me. Ssseemsss…that wass…further punishment. The higher up ya ssstart out, the deeper you Fall…the more you lose…” He felt the angel’s hand on his shoulder, slowly wandering to his back, comforting, compassionate, until, finally, fingers brushed against feathers. “I’m so sorry”, Aziraphale muttered.

Crowley took another deep breath, trying to make sense of the conflicting and confusing emotions he was feeling right now. “’s fine, Angel…I…I bet you have a lovely singing voice…” “Hmm…not sure, actually…I’ve never really let anyone hear me sing and judge that…” Despite himself, Crowley let out a soft chuckle at that. “I prefer you singing, I guess”, Aziraphale finally mused with a smile, “no matter if it’s sometimes slightly off-key. It’s still lovely, maybe precisely because of that. As I said, quite endearing.” Crowley opened his mouth to answer…to say something…but with the angel’s fingers still gently caressing his feathers and him saying something like _this_ , Crowley found himself speechless once again. Helpless, he managed some incoherent consonants – and that slight burning sensation in his eyes and the somewhat blurry vision were certainly not tears, no, definitely not! He also chose to ignore the lump in his throat. Instead, he opted for a grateful smile.

For a moment, they sat in silence. But then, when he felt that Crowley seemed somewhat more relaxed again, Aziraphale began to talk once more. “You know…on my way to that bookseller today, I came across a lovely, little café…It looked positively gorgeous…and…made me think of you, in a way…I…didn’t try it – I wanted to get back here, after all – but…I’m beginning to feel a bit peckish…What do you think? Would you…like us to go and…grab a bite…?” Crowley sighed and cast the angel a smile. Maybe going out was actually a good idea. He’d thought he’d been over all the stuff they’d talked about and the following nightmare, but he’d realised just now that talking about his past seemed to have torn open some old wounds. Maybe going out would finally take his mind off those things properly. “Yeah, sure…Sounds like a good idea, Angel”, he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a short intermezzo, let's say, after the big reveal is out...  
> Hope you have a good read! Stay safe!


	26. Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has talked Crowley into going out - however, he realises a bit too late that the café he's picked for them might not have been the best choice, considering its particular theme and the demon's current state of mind...

“There it is!” Aziraphale pointed to the little café, tugging on Crowley’s sleeve. They’d decided to walk and take a short bus ride instead of Crowley driving them there – or rather, the angel had decided on that, thinking that the walk might do the demon some good, since it had worked so well for himself earlier that day. Crowley was strolling along beside him, hands squeezed into the pockets of his jeans – or rather, fingers squeezed into the pockets, because that was about all that he could possibly squeeze in there at all. He looked up at Aziraphale and then from the angel’s face to where he was pointing: A little café with some sort of a small garden at the front with a couple of trees and bushes and all sorts of greenery, quite a lot of it blooming, and a few tables under said trees – it looked rather inviting and…very green.

“It’s a rather lovely setting, don’t you think?”, Aziraphale asked, pointing out the trees and plants, “and…it seems to have a nice theme, too”, he added, gesturing to the name above the door. ‘Stardust’, Crowley read. _Hmm…interesting…Could be a number of things they’re referencing with that_ , he pondered as the angel practically dragged him along to a free table for two. One look at the menu and the décor of the tables made it obvious that the reference for the name the café had given itself was indeed the most obvious one – the night sky. Every table seemed to be dedicated to a different star, planet or constellation, adorned with pictures and a few short, informative texts. _Well, Hubble and the like have definitely enabled humans to take some high-quality photographs of outer space these days_ , Crowley mused, cocking his head and looking at the pictures decorating their table for two – pictures of a certain star system he knew all too well. _Table for two…the only table for two outside, as it seems…Of course, they had to put that one on this table_ , he couldn’t help thinking.

It felt strange, somehow, skimming through the texts of what humans thought they knew about Alpha Centauri when he himself had actually created it. Crowley sighed, slightly shaking his head, and tried to concentrate instead on what Aziraphale was talking about. The menu, of course. The angel was contemplating his options of what to choose for food and drinks. Crowley found himself smiling softly at Aziraphale’s happy excitement. The angel was almost glowing, and it wasn’t just because of the sunlight catching in his soft blonde curls. A part of him wanted to reach out to Aziraphale – and after all, why not? Why shouldn’t he? After that last night? But he hesitated and stopped himself. That night had been a very different situation, after all. An exception. The angel had been there to comfort him because he’d had that stupid nightmare. Comfort. Just that. They were friends, after all. Friends. Best friends, but still – there were boundaries that probably shouldn’t be crossed just like that. After all, the angel had pushed him away often enough, hadn’t he? And while they might have grown closer, that didn’t mean that he could just…Could he?

 _No_ , Crowley decided, _you’re a demon, he’s an angel, don’t forget that. No one in their right mind would want…Certainly no angel in their right mind…You’ve lost him before, you can’t lose him again. Don’t be a fool, don’t make him push you away by going too fast again_. No, it was better to be grateful for what he could actually have than to hope for something he couldn’t. Like a binary star system – two stars gravitating towards each other, constantly circling around a common centre, depending on each other, unable to get away from each other, yet never touching, never getting too close. Because getting too close would destroy them both. And yet, one couldn’t exist like this without the other. Lost in his own thoughts and staring back at the pictures adorning their table, Crowley smirked somewhat sardonically at the irony of it all: He’d created Alpha Centauri back then without even knowing Aziraphale, without having met him. And yet, it was as if the two stars and he and the angel had quite a bit in common, resembling one another in a way. _Ineffable_ , his mind suggested, much to his own chagrin.

Crowley hardly noticed the waitress coming over to take their order, nor had he noticed much of what Aziraphale had been talking about. The angel reached over to poke his arm and stir him out of his reverie. The demon shook his head, frowning. “Huh?” “What would you like to eat and drink, dear?” Crowley stared at the angel for a moment, then at the waitress standing there with an expectant look on her face, then back at the angel. It was only now that he realised that he hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. “Uh…uhm…just a coffee…”, he finally managed. Aziraphale slightly cocked his head and frowned. It was nothing new that Crowley didn’t order any food and just settled for a coffee or some wine, but somehow, the demon seemed rather preoccupied and broody. “Are you alright?”, the angel asked, and once again, it seemed that Crowley needed to pull himself back to the here and now before he muttered that yes, he was perfectly fine. Aziraphale wasn’t convinced but decided not to argue.

When the waitress brought cake and cocoa for Aziraphale and a cup of coffee for Crowley, the demon looked up, looking at her, then looking around again, taking in his surroundings. All those plants, really, quite like a beautiful garden. And none of them as terrified as the plants in his flat. Well, none of them as luxurious and verdant, either, even though the plants here were quite beautiful. Plants and stars…no wonder this place had reminded the angel of him. Stars…He looked back at the pictures of Alpha Centauri. He’d been quite proud of that one, back then. It had turned out beautifully. He could still recall the feeling…What it had felt like, creating a new star, giving it its essence, its life and soul, in a way. Colours and music…Raw energy…Nowadays, no angels created stars any longer. It wasn’t necessary – that task was fulfilled, after all. Now, the universe kept evolving on its own, stars dying, others being born. No need for divine interference. _But even if there were still stars being created, you’d never be able to do that ever again,_ that little voice in the back of Crowley’s mind didn’t hesitate to remind him, _you lost that ability. Just as you lost the ability to sing anything into existence whatsoever. All that’s left for you is to look up at your creations and see what you once were able to do. What you lost_.

Crowley huffed, wishing for that voice to just shut up. He was fine with what he was. He was happy, being a demon. And there was plenty of stuff he could do. Stuff he hadn’t been able to do before. And there were certain aspects he could embrace now that had only been frowned upon when he was still an angel. Creating mischief and causing a bit of chaos, yes, he liked that. He always had. No, he was definitely way better suited for being what he was now. That didn’t mean, however, that certain things didn’t hurt. He looked back at the pictures on the table, staring a bit, until he noticed that Aziraphale was talking to him. Aziraphale. So close, just sitting opposite him, and yet…he seemed so far away, too. Halfway looking up at the angel, Crowley found that, very unbidden, the memory of his nightmare came crashing back down on him. The bookshop in flames, the angel lost forever.

Once again, he felt the urge to reach out. _No. Nononono, you’re going too fast again. That has always been your downfall, acting and talking before you think. Asking too many questions. And you Fell. Remember that? What that was like? What it felt like, with your wings burning to ash and your whole self being ripped apart? What if you cross the line with Aziraphale and he pushes you away again, maybe for good? What if he doesn’t? What if_ he _Falls because of that? Do you want to risk that?_ Crowley tried to object to himself that, no, Aziraphale certainly wouldn’t Fall…would he? Or push him away? No, it wasn’t worth the risk. After all, that one time he’d lost the angel was still enough to give him nightmares, he certainly wouldn’t risk anything now. The nightmare…Well, great, now he was back to remembering that…It seemed that his thoughts were spiralling in some vicious circle that he just couldn’t escape.

Crowley felt the tell-tale signs of panic bubbling up within him and wanted to slap himself for it. What was wrong with him? The stuff that seemed to be bothering him today had happened partly over six millennia ago and partly at the day of the ‘Apoca-nope’ respectively, or, in fact, hadn’t truly happened at all and was unlikely to ever happen. Still, he couldn’t help it. It all came crashing down, overwhelming, crushing, suffocating. All of a sudden, it was all too much. “’scuse me…”, he muttered instead of replying to whatever Aziraphale was saying to him, jumped up and fled, almost falling over his own feet in his haste.

Aziraphale had watched his friend with increasing concern. Crowley didn’t seem to listen to him at all. While, at first, the demon had just seemed broody and lost in thought, it had soon become obvious that whatever he was thinking weren’t pleasant thoughts. He hadn’t chosen anything from the menu and he hadn’t even touched his coffee. Aziraphale had tried to talk to him, to somehow get through to him and pull him out of wherever his mind was right now, but to no avail. When the demon suddenly bolted with a muttered apology and fled into the café, Aziraphale sat frozen for a moment, trying to process what was going on. Was it something he’d said? But Crowley obviously hadn’t been listening to a single word of his, so that couldn’t be it. The angel pondered what had been going on over the day and before, and slowly but surely, he arrived at some conclusions.

The first fact Aziraphale established was that Crowley had been rather broody since their talk about his lost ability to sing properly…and thus, create. Then, there had been that nightmare the previous night…and their cuddling. Had that been too much? Aziraphale wondered if he’d been too bold…but then, Crowley had asked him to stay, after all, and he certainly hadn’t complained when Aziraphale had done a bit more than just hold his hand. The angel cast his mind a bit further back, to all the recent revelations. All that talking about the past had obviously torn open some very old wounds. He looked around himself and realised that, while to him, this café with all the plants and the stellar theme was something that soothed his mind because it reminded him of Crowley, it might have the exact opposite effect on the demon himself right now, after everything they’d been talking about recently. Aziraphale closed his eyes and sighed. He wanted to kick himself. Wanting to help, he’d probably just made things worse.

Well, there was only one thing he could do now. He got up and followed his friend into the café. Once inside, he looked around, wondering where Crowley might have disappeared to. The café looked just as lovely inside as it did on the outside: Pictures and paintings of stars, planets and constellations everywhere, the ceiling imitating the night sky, all night blue with tiny sparkling lights everywhere. And wherever there was any space for them throughout the café, there were pots of plants. Normally, Aziraphale would have looked around in awe and appreciation, but as it was, there were more pressing things occupying his mind right now. Once again, he scanned the room.

The lady at the counter noticed his searching gaze and asked what he was looking for. “Oh…for my…my friend…”, the angel began to explain. She looked at him expectantly, so he continued, trying his best to describe the demon in neutral terms: “Well…tall and lanky, red hair, dressed in black, rather snappily, sungl-” “Oh! You mean the dude with the sunglasses? Yes, he came in here, seemed to be in quite a hurry…Disappeared to the loo, hasn’t come back out yet…That your boyfriend?” Aziraphale chose not to comment on that, but instead just thanked her with a nod and hurried in the direction she was pointing to.

Even before he reached the door, Aziraphale could sense the barrier that would ensure that any human planning to go through it would miraculously reconsider and leave. He wasn’t a human, however, and it wasn’t enough to keep an angel out. Well, it was perhaps a good sign, he thought – if Crowley had bothered to make sure that no one would come in, that meant that he was at least still here. The angel took a deep breath and opened the door. When he stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was merely half-suppressed sobbing. “Crowley…?” “Go away”, came a hoarse reply from one of the stalls. Aziraphale frowned. He hesitated for a moment – surely, with the barrier blocking the room, Crowley must know that it could only be him. Still, if this was his fault, then he’d have to set things right…and if it wasn’t, well, then he’d definitely not leave his friend alone now. Slowly, but determinedly, he took a step forward and reached out to open the door to the stall the demon was hiding in.

When Crowley noticed the door being opened, he made another attempt to send whoever was here to bother him away. “Leave me alone”, he said, trying his best to sound firm and resolute, but his shaking voice betrayed him. “Crowley, it’s me”, Aziraphale replied, opening the door and looking inside. He was met with a pitiful sight: Crowley was huddled on the floor, knees drawn up, arms more or less wrapped around his legs, his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly with quiet sobs. “Oh, my dear boy…” Aziraphale was down on the floor beside the demon in an instant, when he heard Crowley sniff. “’m fine…”, he muttered. “Crowley…you’re crying…” “’m not…Jussst…allergic…to…to sssomethin’…” The angel sighed. “You’re a demon, you’re not allergic to anything.” Instead of replying, Crowley sniffed again, giving up on the discussion.

Aziraphale sighed again and then simply wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him into a hug. Without thinking further about it, he materialised his wings and wrapped them around them both as well, shrouding them in a cocoon of pearly white feathers. For a while, they just sat there like this, until Aziraphale began to speak once again. “I’m so sorry…I…I should have known better…I didn’t think this place would have such an effect on you…I’m sorry, I should have suggested someplace else…” This, finally, caused Crowley to look up. By now, he’d finally stopped crying. “Nonsense…not your fault, Angel”, he muttered, sounding exhausted, “you just tried to help…and it’s a beautiful place, too…’m just being pathetic and ssstupid…Sssorry…” Aziraphale noticed the demon’s increasing embarrassment. He shook his head. “No. Crowley, no. You’re not stupid. And not pathetic, either. Don’t apologise, dear.”

Crowley sighed. “Sssorry…’s just…Guess it’s all been…bit much lately…’m being ridiculous…I mean…’s been over six millennia, at least most of it, one should think I’m over all that stuff…” Aziraphale contemplated for a moment. “Well…have you…Did you just…bottle all of that up without ever…Have you ever talked about all that? With anyone?” Crowley huffed. “Course not! Who was I supposed to talk to about all that? Other demons? Nah, thanks! Ya don’t expose your weaknesses to other demons, for them to exploit that and take advantage of it. And stab you in the back. No way. Show weakness to another demon, you’re as good as dead. Or you wish you were dead, rather.” _Why didn’t you talk to me?_ , the angel thought, but he didn’t say it. In fact, he could answer this question himself. He could understand why Crowley hadn’t told him anything until he’d more or less forced him to do so. After all, he was an angel. Probably the last being a demon would want to talk to about their Fall or their angelic past and whatever trauma came with all that. “It’s alright, my dear…I…It seems I forced you to tear open some old wounds, didn’t I? I’m sorry…”

But Crowley shook his head. “Guess it’s…okay for you to know about that stuff…Gnn…fuck, this is so embarrassing…Sorry…I…It’s…it’s utterly stupid and ridiculous! I mean…I’m freakin’ out over stuff that hasn’t even happened…and…stuff that happened millennia ago…and…stuff that’s been dealt with…I mean…that nightmare, it won’t even ever come true! Unrealissstic! And…and…the bookshop burning, that’s all been set right. I mean…you’re alive…And…and the mosst ssstupid thing is, I’m actually happy being a demon. Wouldn’t want to be an angel again or go back up to those biased, self-righteous wankers up there, no thanks. ‘s just a few…things I miss…Like…being able to create…I know nobody actually creates stars these days, but even if… _I_ couldn’t. Never again. Once kicked out, lost that. Unforgiveable, for all eternity. Not that I care about it. Get back up, dust yourself off, carry on. ‘s always been like that. No regrets, it’s all fine…We’ve ssstopped Armageddon, for S-…for Sssomebody’s ssake! We’ve always managed…and we always will, it will all be fine! Jussst me being…ssstupid. Never ssstopped to bother before if I ssing off-key…Won’t sstart now.”

“You know, Crowley”, Aziraphale contemplated, “you’re quite remarkable. You never stop and give up. Of course, you might get desperate, we all do…but you always come up with something…I’ve always…admired that about you. You Fell, and yet, you retained your optimism, despite everything. And…you still sing, too. I mean…it’s obvious that you like music. And no matter if it’s sometimes a bit off-key, you still do it anyway. Because you enjoy it. And you put your whole heart into it. Don’t change that, please. And…as for being creative…well, you have a wonderful gift: Imagination. You can still create stuff. Not on such a grand scale, sure, but…as you said, nobody creates stars these days, so even if you were able to, you…couldn’t, really. But there are other things…and…you know, you might have lost the ability to create something as huge as stars, but you retained the gift of healing. Your specialty. Which is…” “…perhaps the more useful ability, I know, yeah...”, Crowley finished the sentence. “Guess ya only ever appreciate what you had and want it back once it’s gone…Gained some other talents, too, when I Fell…”, he added softly, “And…actually, for the most parts, I feel quite fine, being a demon…’m not ashamed of it…Suits me way better than being an angel…Always stuck out as one…”

After a moment of consideration, the angel mused: “You know, I…I definitely cannot speak for the Almighty…but…I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: For what it’s worth, I forgive you…and I mean it…So…demon or no…you’re not that unforgiveable, my dear boy…” He kept rubbing the demon’s back in slow, calming circles. A mere moment after what he’d just said, he felt Crowley lean against him and heard him sigh. “Ngk…’kay…Well, anyway…Bookshop’s safe, you’re safe, so…no need for me to…uh…hng…anyway…” Blushing, the demon tried to think about something else to say. “’s truly a…nice place here, actually, this café…I…I see why you like it…”, he finally managed. _Because it reminds you of me_ , he thought but couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Still, the thought was enough to make him blush just a bit more, and it brought a slight smile back to his face.

They remained there, on the floor, for a while longer, and Aziraphale was relieved to find that Crowley seemed to have calmed down again. “Do you…want to finish our meal or would you rather go back home?”, the angel asked. He felt Crowley shrug. “Well…we can finish that if ya like…’s fine…Sorry ‘bout all this…”, Crowley gestured vaguely, “Maybe we should come back here when I’m in a better mood”. Aziraphale gently patted his back. “Hey, it’s alright, my dear…And…if you need to talk, I’ll always be there to listen, okay?” The demon just nodded to that. “’kay…Thanks…”, he replied, allowing the angel to help him get back up.

A short while later, they were back at their table. It was only now that Crowley noticed Aziraphale’s strawberry cheesecake and the angel promptly offered him a spoonful. After that, Aziraphale cast him a warm smile and reached out to put his hand atop Crowley’s hand that was resting on the table. The demon spluttered a few incoherent consonants, but when he looked up at the angel’s face and saw that warm smile, he couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe getting closer didn’t mean mutual destruction, after all. He’d just wait and see. He'd waited for centuries, after all, he could wait for a few more centuries. He’d leave it to Aziraphale to decide what exactly they’d be for each other…and when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit is actually something I had a dream about. In that dream, I had no idea why Crowley had that breakdown, but then I started writing this story and suddenly, that little scene from my dream just fit in here.  
> The name for the café is a little nod to Neil Gaiman, of course, but another possible association Crowley might initially have come up with could be David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, too.  
> Anyway, Crowley definitely needed this hug...  
> Hope you have a good read - stay safe!


	27. An Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident at the café, Crowley needs some time for himself, but is happy enough to come over to the bookshop two days later. However, before he can even get to Aziraphale's door, he runs into someone he didn't expect - and that someone has a rather unexpected message for Aziraphale...

When they returned to the bookshop, Crowley insisted that he needed to pay a visit to his flat. “Need to check on the plants – they might act up otherwise. Wouldn’t want them to think that they can start wilting or anything like that”, he explained. Aziraphale reckoned that, after the most recent revelations and the turbulences they had caused, the demon might just need some time to himself. In fact, he could understand that very well, even though he certainly wouldn’t mind Crowley sticking around the bookshop indefinitely. But maybe, some time to think about everything in the calm and quiet of one’s own privacy was actually a good idea. He just hoped that Crowley would be alright. “Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me…I’ll always have an open ear, too”, he said. Crowley just chuckled. “Yeah, right…I know”, he replied with a smirk, before heading towards the Bentley.

On his drive back to his flat, Crowley decided to switch on the radio. Immediately, Freddie’s voice sounded through the car. The demon smirked. Of course, it had to be _‘Friends Will Be Friends’_ now. At first, he smiled, but then he began to wonder. Was this supposed to be a good sign or did it rather imply that they’d always remain friends, but never anything more than that? He shook his head – no, he’d been in a bad mood long enough, he certainly wouldn’t drag himself down again right now. And if they were meant to remain friends and never anything more, well, then so be it! He’d leave it to the angel and was prepared to remain happy and grateful with whatever he got. It had been like that for millennia, after all. And yet…When he pulled up in front of his flat – the perfect spot for the Bentley just miraculously free as always – Crowley still felt slightly frustrated, but nevertheless way better than before, in that café.

After some yelling at his plants and using the next day to cause some mischief involving soap and a few city fountains, Crowley felt that he was back to his old self. Well, in his defence, that pathetic excuse of a philodendron had had it coming – Crowley thought that letting off some steam was perfectly justified in this case. The other plants now seemed greener than ever…and as terrified as usual. And…as for the latest mischief, it had caused quite a bit of chaos over the whole day, with foam and bubbles blocking at least two or three entire roads. In fact, it was on the news that night and there were still reports about it the following morning.

The memory was enough to make the demon chuckle. He shook his head, a broad grin on his face, as he settled down on the throne at his desk, lounging in it sideways with his legs thrown over the armrest. He switched on the huge flatscreen tv, once again grateful for the certainty that Hell wouldn’t be able to just randomly pop in there any longer. For a while, the demon switched through channels, until he settled on a few episodes of ‘The Good Place’, followed by some random documentary on turtles, followed by a few episodes of ‘The Golden Girls’.

Crowley smiled softly. He still had a soft spot for that series – those elderly ladies were just way too delightful. And he didn’t even think about the fact that he’d stumbled across exactly these things on the telly simply because he expected them to be on there. What a great way to pass the time! He was thoroughly enjoying himself, fully prepared to turn this into a whole afternoon and night of binge-watching. Completely absorbed in what was going on on the screen, Crowley almost fell out of his throne when his telephone started ringing all of a sudden. Sighing, he reached for it – he didn’t even need to check or guess who could possibly be calling him.

“Hi, Angel…” “Hello, Crowley, it’s me!” Crowley sighed and rolled his eyes. “I know it’s you, Aziraphale...” He could almost hear the angel blush through the phone. “Oh…right…Well, I…I was wondering how you were doing? Are you…alright?” Crowley smirked. “Perfectly fine, Angel…Back to my old, wily self…and…uh…hng…sssorry again for…well…for that…embarrassing display of…” He trailed off, relieved when the angel chose to have mercy and interrupt him: “Oh, it’s alright, my dear! No need to apologise! I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better…What have you been up to? I…I heard about…the traffic chaos caused by…someone messing with some fountains? Was that…That was you, wasn’t it?” Crowley’s chuckle earned him a huff from the angel. “It _was_ you, you wily serpent! Truly back to your old self, I see…” “Well…if my adversary has become somewhat inattentive and negligent and doesn’t care to thwart my wiles, that’s hardly my fault now, is it?”

He heard Aziraphale gasp in mock-offence, followed by a chuckle. “You foul fiend”, the angel laughed, but then he put on a more serious, concerned tone: “But…seriously, Crowley. Soap? All that soap in the fountains? Not very environment-friendly, is it?” “What d’ya take me for, Angel? ‘m a demon, yes, but not a complete moron! Specifically chose some non-polluting stuff for that. Honest!”, he insisted when the angel remained silent. “Alright, fine, jolly good then”, Aziraphale finally conceded, “Well…not good, obviously, but…Anyway. I…Actually, I called you because I was a tad worried about you and…I was wondering if…you’d like to come over? Just a social visit, you know?” Crowley smiled. How could he possibly say no to that? “Want me to bring something over for lunch? Dinner?”, he asked and Aziraphale agreed enthusiastically, allowing him to bring whatever food he wanted.

A short while later, the demon hopped into his Bentley and sped off. He could have walked, sure – and anyone else would probably have been faster that way, but with Crowley driving the way he did, he pulled up at the bookshop almost in record time – especially considering that he’d stopped to pick up some lunch. He kept wondering what Aziraphale had been up to during these last two days since the incident at the café…and what the angel was up to now. It was quite possible that he was truly just worried and wanted to make sure that Crowley was alright after that nervous breakdown of his. Well, whatever the angel had in mind, whether it was feeding the ducks or a quiet evening with a couple of glasses of wine, Crowley was looking forward to it. He grabbed the box containing a generous amount of sushi from one of the angel’s favourite restaurants from the passenger seat, got out of the car, closed the door – and stopped dead in his tracks.

Frowning, Crowley looked around. Something was…strange. A presence…an angelic presence, but not Aziraphale’s. And…it seemed somewhat…off. That was the best thing he could come up with, trying to describe to himself what he was sensing. He scrunched his nose, sniffing the air, and looked around again, scanning the street, trying to pinpoint where this presence was hiding. An angel with a penchant for lurking and a strange undercurrent to their ethereal presence? Odd. And highly suspicious. Weirdly enough, there was something vaguely familiar about this presence, too…familiar and yet…completely alien at the same time. Something was definitely wrong here – something smelled wrong. And then, finally, Crowley saw the being whose presence he’d sensed. And he froze in shock.

This was impossible. Completely, utterly, totally impossible. It just couldn’t be. And yet…Crowley frowned, slack-jawed, staring in disbelief. The…angel, for lack of a better word, turned out to be a dark-skinned man in a light grey suit with an unsettlingly familiar face. With eyes that changed their colour constantly. Eyes that were glaring at him with unveiled hatred. “Hhhh…Ligur?”, Crowley finally managed, his voice quite a bit too high. The angel began to move towards him. Something in the back of his mind told him to run, but for once, the Serpent found that he couldn’t get his feet to move, realising how the proverbial rabbit must feel when facing a snake. Oh, the irony! “Crawly”, the being in front of him replied. So it _was_ Ligur…and he obviously recognised him. _Shit_.

“H-how…how can that be? Y-you…you’re…ssss’ppossed to be…dead?” Crowley hated how shaken he sounded. Ligur just exhaled through his nose and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks to _you_ , Snake. Seems when Armageddon didn’t happen and…reality was restarted, whatever was destroyed was restored…and what was dead was brought back to life. So, imagine my surprise when I was suddenly back…and realised that now I’m… _this_.” Ligur gestured towards himself, his voice dripping with disgust.

Crowley was still shaking his head in disbelief. “You…are an _angel? You?_ You’ve been forgiven? Demons aren’t forgiven! Not ever!” But Ligur shook his head. “Oh, I’m not forgiven. Certainly not by God, if that’s what you mean. And not by anyone else up there. Didn’t ever want to return to those wank-wings Upstairs, either, but thanks to you _killing_ me…” He took another step towards Crowley, who felt that, by now, Ligur was decidedly too close for his liking.

“So now it’s my fault that you’ve been sent back Upstairs? Maybe you should rather send your complaints to the Antichrist”, Crowley retorted, relieved that he’d finally regained his usual smooth, suave coolness. Probably six millennia of Hell-trained survival instincts finally kicking in. “Who you’d been entrusted with, Crawly. Messed that one up too. _And_ murdered me. Cold-blooded Serpent!” “Now, now, Ligur, come on! If I hadn’t struck first, you and Hastur’d have dragged me back to Hell and death would’ve been the best I could’ve hoped for! Prob’ly eternal torture, more likely. And don’t tell me _you_ wouldn’t have thoroughly enjoyed _that_. You and Hastur would’ve loved to see me suffer. So, proper demonic thing to do, simple self-defence!”

Ligur’s eyes blazed and he leaned forward threateningly. Crowley realised that mentioning Hastur probably hadn’t been such a clever move. “You deserved it, Snake! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just smite you now.” Crowley raised a finger and opened his mouth to say something, but he realised that, unless he wanted to start a fight that would wreak havoc in the middle of the street, he’d have to come up with a pretty good argument now. After all, if Ligur was back to being an angel, smiting a demon was…the right thing for him to do? Was it?

That was it! The perfect argument! “Uh…well, Ligur…Is it still Ligur? Or…are ya back to your old name…whatever that was…? Anyway. Smiting me? Right here and now? Not a good idea, really, with all those humans around. And not very angelic, smiting a demon without reason.” “Oh, I have plenty of reasons. You killing me, for one!” “Uh-uh, but that’s revenge”, Crowley protested, “not angelic at all. Can’t do that. Besides…I guess you’ve prob’ly heard of…my and Aziraphale’s trials? Immune to both Holy Water and Hellfire, both of us, so ’m pretty sure ya couldn’t even smite me if ya tried.” Ligur was still glaring at him, face twisted in rage, eyes blazing in a myriad of colours. He reminded Crowley quite a bit of an angry bull. “I could try…Who knows, maybe that’ll make me Fall again…”, he muttered. Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “’s that really what you want? Forgot what it was like? Falling? Or d’ya hate being an angel so much?”

In his rage, Ligur grabbed Crowley by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him against his own car. “Downstairs I was someone! Now, thanks to you, I’m running errands for Michael!” Crowley had no idea afterwards how he managed to remain so calm. He regarded Ligur for a moment, cast a short glance around, noticing that some passers-by had stopped and were standing around and staring at them, and then, very quietly, he just hissed: “Let go of me.” And strangely enough, Ligur relented. Crowley smoothed his somewhat rumpled jacket. “Maybe you should stop blaming me. I killed you, yes, in self-defence. Snake, remember? Tend to strike out when feeling threatened. Attack is the best self-defence, after all. Get them before they get you. And I was tried and sentenced for that, in case you didn’t hear about it. Took a bath in Holy Water. Asked them for a rubber duck. But I most certainly _never_ intended for you to go back up to Heaven. In fact, you’re probably about the last demon I’d ever expect to turn angel again. So…wrong address for your complaint.”

Ligur just kept glaring at him, obviously not satisfied with the situation. “Can’t smite you now, anyway. Not just yet. Need your help”, he grumbled. Crowley made a noise somewhere between a huff and a surprised laugh. “My help? You’ve got a nerve! That’s some way of asking for help!” “Are you done yet, Serpent?” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Well…what d’ya want, then? Was wondering why you’re here, anyway…” Ligur huffed. “I have a message…For the principality Aziraphale. From Michael. She got it from the Metatron.”

Crowley couldn’t help grinning broadly. “Ahhh, I see…and ya can’t get in…And now you want me to help you to get to Aziraphale to deliver your message…errand boy?” “Careful, Serpent, or I’ll smite you yet!” “Wanna see you try”, Crowley retorted coolly, managing to sound almost bored, “What’s the message, then?” “It’s for the angel, not for you. Now. Help me deliver it, I haven’t got all day and the longer you make me wait here with you, the more tempted I am to rip your tongue out and make you swallow it.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and tutted. “Fine. Becoming an angel again doesn’t seem to have changed you, I see. C’mon then.” He picked up the box of sushi that had landed on the ground sometime during his…discussion with Ligur and started walking towards the bookshop, gesturing for Ligur to follow him, but then he turned around once again. “But any wrong move towards Aziraphale and I’m telling you now, angel or no, you’ll regret it. Got that? Good.” With that, Crowley turned once again and opened the front door to the bookshop.

Aziraphale’s smile when Crowley walked through the door wavered and disappeared quickly when he saw that the demon wasn’t alone. “Crowley”, he’d begun, but then he frowned and simply asked “Who’s this?” “Oh, former colleague of mine, works for Michael now…Says he has a message for you…”, Crowley explained. Aziraphale squinted slightly at Ligur. “You…are an angel…but…” The former demon rolled his eyes. “Yes, bloody Heav-…Hell, I used to be a demon, minding my own business, when that Serpent here thought it necessary to murder me.” “In self-defence”, Crowley interrupted. Ligur merely glared at him. “And then, when Armageddon…well…didn’t happen, I found myself alive again…like this. And don’t think I’m welcome up there or ever gave a shit about returning! Never liked it anyway. I’d give someone’s right arm to be back where I belong”, Ligur cast a meaningful look at Crowley before continuing, “At least, Michael was kind enough to take me in, due to our former collab-…” He interrupted himself, realising that he’d said too much.

Aziraphale squinted and cocked his head. “Backchannels”, he muttered. Crowley frowned, looking from Aziraphale to Ligur and back again. “Backchannels”, the angel repeated, more firmly this time, “I accidentally overheard Michael talking to Uriel about that quite a while ago. There _are_ no backchannels…at least, supposedly…and yet…During our trials, Heaven and Hell clearly cooperated. They said as much down in Hell…as you remember, right, Crowley?” Crowley was quick to nod in affirmation, even though, of course, he didn’t remember – he’d been up in Heaven, spitting Hellfire at Gabriel, Uriel and Sandalphon, after all. Ligur closed his eyes. He obviously wanted to vanish into the ground. “So that was what she meant, I take it?”, Aziraphale asked the former demon, “she’s been collaborating with you for years, hasn’t she?” Ligur growled. “Well, there’s nothing goo-…bad in a bit of good old collaboration and espionage”, he grumbled. “I see”, Aziraphale nodded.

“Well, and now he’s her errand boy, as it seems”, Crowley chimed in, “So, not that much has changed after all, eh, Ligur? Basically, you’re still doing the same stuff…at least partly. Working with the same angel as before…” “Shut up, Snake”, Ligur snapped, which earned him an indignant hiss in reply. “You said you have a message”, Aziraphale interrupted, stopping Crowley and Ligur from glaring at each other like two angry cats. The former demon sighed. “Yes. For you, Principality. From Michael. She told me to deliver it in person. Got it straight from the Metatron. I’m to tell you that, concerning your unlawful arrest in Heaven, everything has been dealt with. And…I’m to tell you that your suspicions have proven to be true. Measures have been taken accordingly. The…angel in question has been reprimanded and demoted, and is thus suspended from his privileges and duties for now. I hope that means something to you. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll better leave now before I feel too tempted to tear Mr Slick here limb from limb.” With that, Ligur turned to leave, only to be stopped by Crowley. Aziraphale was still processing the message, a small smile slowly forming on his face. “Huh…”, he mumbled, more to himself than to Crowley or Ligur.

The former demon, meanwhile, glared at Crowley angrily. “What?”, he spat. “Oh, just one thing…Or perhaps two, actually. A small suggestion, if you like. After all, I helped you get in here and deliver your message – you owe me…” If looks could kill, the look Ligur gave Crowley would definitely have at least discorporated him on the spot. “I think you’ll thank me for this, actually”, Crowley continued, unbothered by the burning hatred in those ever-changing eyes, “Before you run back up to Michael like a well-behaved angel, I suggest you make a little detour Downstairs and visit an old friend of yours. I have a message for him.” Ligur frowned. “Go down to Hell? I’m an angel now, you idiot!” “But they should still recognise you. I highly doubt they’ll harm you. After all, you’re quite a bit of a very unique miracle…” Ligur looked as if he’s just eaten something particularly bitter, but he waited for Crowley to continue.

“Well…see, the thing is, your old mate Hastur still believes you’re dead. I bet he’d be thrilled to see you’re not.” “I’m an _angel_ , in case you haven’t noticed! It’s not like we can just…go back to being…mates, as you phrased it.” Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Well, don’t see why that should stop you. I mean…Aziraphale’s an angel, I’m a demon. We’ve been doing this for…well millennia, actually. Just think outside the box for once. Unless…Hastur doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore, now that you’re an angel. But ya’ll never know unless ya go find him and talk to him. And I _want_ you to talk to him because I think he might have got himself into a bit of trouble lately. By causing trouble for Aziraphale and me – which I really, really don’t appreciate. Because, believe it or not, I don’t fancy being shot. Hurt quite a bit, that one. And I most definitely don’t like anyone trying to harm Aziraphale. Hastur seemed to have been…out for revenge a bit. For your sake, as it seems, so I’m sure it’d be best for everyone if you could just pay him a visit, catch up and tell him to stop being such a blessed nuisance and inconveniencing himself as well as Aziraphale and me. Because if he ever tries anything like that ever again or even dares to show his face around here, Hell will be the least of his problems.”

Ligur stared at Crowley for a moment. Hastur had tried to avenge him? By…coming after Crowley and his angel? And now he was in trouble for that? That was news indeed. “I see…”, he muttered, before turning to leave with a growl, frowning, mumbling to himself and shaking his head. Crowley watched him walk out of the door and down the street, until Aziraphale’s hand on his arm made him jump slightly. He half turned and saw that the angel’s gaze was on the disappearing former demon as well. “Well…that was something”, the angel muttered, “That was…Ligur? The…the one you killed with Holy Water?” “Yup.” “Do you…think he’ll go Downstairs?” Crowley shrugged. “If he cares about Hastur, he should. I hope he does, for the sake of everyone involved. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee for what I might do if I ever see Hastur again. Was quite a shock, seeing Ligur, admittedly…No idea what Hastur will say…” “A demon becoming an angel again…That’s new…”, the angel remarked. “Not that he’s particularly happy about it…Understandably so, all things considered”, the demon added to that.

Crowley felt Aziraphale looking at him, so he turned to face the angel. There was a slight smile on Aziraphale’s face. “You were rather protective there”, the angel stated, “Do you think he can truly make it down to Hell and to Hastur?” Crowley shrugged. “He’s been a demon for millennia, he knows how to manoeuvre Hell. ‘m sure he can find Hastur…and I bet they’ll be too stunned Downstairs to harm him, anyway.” “And…you think Hastur will…accept him? Like he is now? I mean…I feel a bit sorry for him, he must feel like a proper outcast in Heaven…” Crowley just shrugged. “No idea what Hastur will say. They are both bastards…I guess one has to be an actual, proper angel to feel sorry for them…” Aziraphale just hummed, choosing not to comment on that.

“You were right, by the way…”, he said instead. Crowley frowned. “What d’ya mean, Angel?” “About Gabriel, as it seems…If I understand this message we just received correctly…Well…I asked the Metatron to look into this business with our arrest in Heaven, remember? I…didn’t really think I’d still get to hear anything come of it, but…apparently, this was it. The answer I didn’t dare hope for. And…well, I might have suggested to the Metatron that they…might want to check if Gabriel was involved. And…if it’s now Michael who’s handling communications…I mean, it was always Gabriel who was God’s messenger…Seems he’s been reprimanded…rather heavily…” A smirk appeared on Crowley’s face, broadening as Aziraphale explained. “Serves him right”, the demon muttered, sounding rather satisfied, “told ya so, Angel…I knew it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, everybody - this week has been absolutely crazy! I didn't get to write anything and I didn't even have the time or energy to sit down and edit the next chapter and upload it (I'm still a bit ahead, working on chapter 30, but as you see, that's not too far ahead any more...). So, if I upload only once a week right now, I do hope that's okay with you...  
> Anyway, some more revelations here...
> 
> Yes, everyone needs a bit of me-time now and again, and I guess, while he definitely needed that hug, Crowley also needed this.  
> And yes, Ligur is back - and certainly not happy about what he is now. At least, he and Hastur may have a chance, somehow...maybe...But no, Ligur may be back to being an angel, but that doesn't mean he's forgiven - his aura is enough of a hint for that...


	28. Shadows of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ligur has left, Aziraphale has some more questions - and by now, Crowley is ready to open up and talk, even about the Rebellion. So, Aziraphale gets to know why Crowley has little reason to like Gabriel and how he came to be the Serpent of Eden.

“How…did you know, though? I mean…how did you come to suspect Gabriel being involved in all that?” They were in the backroom of the bookshop, enjoying the sushi Crowley had brought, along with some excellent bottles straight from Aziraphale’s stash of wine. Crowley leaned back on the sofa and sighed. “Well…Remember that angel guarding us when we were locked up?” Aziraphale nodded, so Crowley continued: “Well, to be fair, I wasn’t sure about it, but…I was pretty certain that I recognised him. One of Gabriel’s old buddies…at least he used to be, back then…And well, knowing Gabriel, it really wasn’t too much of a stretch to suspect that he might be involved in this…maybe even behind it all…”

Aziraphale frowned. “Honestly, I’d never seen that angel before…but…well, I guess you might be right…I wonder what Gabriel’s doing now…” The demon just smirked and shrugged. “Well, if it was me, I guess the punishment would be a desk job with a ton of boring paperwork…if it was you, perhaps a recall up to Heaven…as for Gabriel, I bet he’d love a desk full of dull papers, so I guess, if they really want to punish him, it’ll prob’ly rather be public disgrace or something? Being officially demoted? Must hurt his self-righteous, proud ego…”

Aziraphale cocked his head and contemplated this for a moment. “Hmm…actually, I guess you might be correct. You…erm…Did you know him well?” Crowley just huffed and rolled his eyes. “Had to, obviously. We never really got along…” “I noticed”, the angel commented. When Crowley looked at him in surprise, he elaborated: “Well, it’s quite obvious that you don’t really like Gabriel…I always figured that was because of…well, whatever I told you about him…but…it’s not just that, is it?” The demon sighed. “No…Not only that. Though it’s certainly a large part of it. But…even before you told me anything, I had little reason to like him…” Crowley trailed off and remained silent, staring into space and lost in thought…or rather, as it seemed, lost in old memories.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”, the angel asked after a moment of silence. Crowley sighed again, but to Aziraphale’s surprise, he began to talk again, albeit somewhat hesitantly. “Well…d’you…uhm…How much do you remember about the Rebellion?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose up. “Well…I was in the library, I joined relatively late…It was…chaos…” The angel shuddered, merely thinking about it.

Cowley hummed and nodded, before slowly continuing: “Well…chaos, yes…It had all gone somewhat mad…I…didn’t want to fight, even though both sides sort of…pushed me to join in…Tried to save whoever I could instead…”, he closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, “Guess that made me appear like a traitor to both sides…But I was never meant to fight and kill, I was meant to do the contrary, to heal, for Someone’s sake! And…we were all so very young back then…idealistic…naïve…I tried to reason with them all, but…the only result that came of that was that I myself freaked out, screaming and shouting…and…well…Ya remember Michael fighting with Lucifer? Ultimately pushing him and casting him out of Heaven? Well…at first, that didn’t seem too bad…at least, not to all the others…but then, he Fell…” Aziraphale nodded, paling at the memory of it. The demon continued: “Michael had broken his wings, so, of course, since he wouldn’t be able to fly like that, a few of his friends jumped after him, to help…but broken wings or not, he couldn’t have come back up…and neither could they. They were all Falling, before they even realised what was happening. And then, eventually, everyone realised…” “…and they started throwing the rebels out”, the angel added, shuddering.

Crowley nodded. “I got caught up in it all, same as everyone else…as I said, screaming at them all…and at God, too…and…then, someone pushed me…from behind…I’d have suspected Michael, but when I looked back up…well…it wasn’t her, standing there…” Aziraphale stared at the demon in shock. “Gabriel pushed you out of Heaven?” Crowley closed his eyes and nodded softly. “He must have known I’d Fall…Ha! Ya know, I’ve been wondering whether I should be mad at him or thank him for it. I mean…’s not his fault that I Fell, he just…gave me the final push. Guess I was…pretty much dead to him even before that, all things considered…Still…we didn’t get along too well before that and…with him doing _that_ , without caring what it would do to me…For all anyone knew back then, an angel Falling from Heaven, wings bursting into flames, screaming in agony…anyone would’ve believed that to be a death sentence. Self-righteous, arrogant prick. Showed me well enough what he thought of me, at any rate…and it was enough proof for me as to what kinda angel Gabriel was. And is. No scruples throwing a fellow angel to what he must have believed to be certain death. Seems he did a pretty good job covering that up, after what you’ve told me…”

Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to continue eating sushi after that – he felt somewhat sick now. This explained why Gabriel hadn’t wanted him to continue his research. “I…I’m so sorry…I…really don’t know what to say”, he stammered. He’d expected Crowley and Gabriel to simply not get along due to their very different characters, but this? He’d always known Gabriel to be not only self-righteous, as Crowley had just said, but also ruthless…and as it seemed, this story was only further proof for that. But Crowley just huffed and shrugged with a slight smirk. “’s alright, Angel…Long time ago…And besides…I’d have Fallen anyway…No one to blame for that but myself…and I’m not ashamed of what I am. He just gave me the final push…What he did to you was worse. Much worse. And I’m not gonna forgive and forget that. I mean…he’s had six millennia to be a terrible, pompous ass of a boss to you…Screw him for _that_.” Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile softly at that. “I guess we both had to deal with…bosses who were rather bad at being good bosses…” Crowley chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right…But hey, we’re retired now. Permanent sabbatical. Our own bosses, self-employed, on our own side.” The angel beamed at him. “I like that”, he agreed, “and I dare say we make a pretty good team.”

Crowley swirled the wine in his glass around for a bit, looking at it with an amused smirk. Aziraphale couldn’t help smiling as well and took a sip from his own glass before he figured that he felt up for some more sushi now. His mind returned to the message that had started their conversation – and the strange messenger. “Crowley…about Ligur…” The demon sighed. “Angel, when it comes to that, I know as much as you do. I don’t understand it either. All I can say is that I don’t pity either of them. Hastur and Ligur both deserve whatever trouble they’re in. And as for Hastur, I do hope he ran into some serious troubles Downstairs for his shenanigans. I meant what I said earlier.”

Aziraphale sighed softly. “I understand. Frankly, after what he did to you, I…well…I guess you remember that I said something similar back in that hospital…And I meant that too. But…that wasn’t really what I wanted to talk about…” “Oh?” “No…yes…I mean…you clearly recognised him, right? Ligur, I mean?” “Yeah, obviously. ‘m not completely daft. Or blind. I mean…his aura’s changed, of course…No longer demonic, but…not really a clear angelic presence, either…’s weird…” Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean, dear…But…You know…this is…something I was actually wondering about…Most demons look…well…How shall I phrase this? Demonic? I mean…with…with creatures stuck to their heads or…claws and…teeth and…And…he didn’t? And…frankly…nor do you…”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, then he began to laugh. “Well…ya know, I could…walk around like that, too…’s just…not really stylish, is it? Not my thing. And…especially up here on Earth, humans tend to…react rather badly to stuff like that…Sharp teeth, maggots and the like…Remember Beelzebub in Tadfield? They sported a somewhat more…human look there too. ‘xcept for the giant fly. ‘s just that most demons spend so much time Downstairs…sometimes an eternity, without ever coming up here, that they…don’t bother…They…sorta just…decay, in a way…” Aziraphale nodded slowly and Crowley continued: “As for me, as I said, not really my style. I…could do that, ya know I _have_ done that, occasionally, to scare someone, but…See, the thing is…the snake shape is alright. Feels pretty natural. But…that other stuff? With that, I’m…always a bit worried that…one day, I might not be able to change back…I mean…you’ve seen what they look like, down in Hell…” The demon scrunched his nose and Aziraphale knew very well what he meant. Most demons Downstairs truly hadn’t been a particularly pretty sight.

But then, the angel nodded. “Well…angels do that, too…Toning down a bit to…be more inconspicuous down here on Earth…Mostly…” “Yeah, right…Learning from experience: ‘Oh, fear not, humans’, while in full celestial glory and not even bothering to try for a more or less human shape…And oh bother, no idea why those humans freak out and run away screaming.” Aziraphale giggled. “Well, that was something I knew from the start, at least…They could have asked me…” Crowley grinned at him fondly. “They should have, Angel…”

Aziraphale smiled, before remembering what he’d actually wanted to ask. “But…as I said, you recognised Ligur…But…does he look…different now? I mean…?” “Well…he did sport a rather fancy…chameleon or something like that on his head when he was still a demon…Used to look a bit worse for wear, too…Bit grittier and dirtier…Now, he was all fancy suit and…changing eyes instead of that chameleon-thingy. But apart from that…and apart from the weird change to his…occult…ethereal…whatever presence? Nah, still same old Ligur. Seemed a bit out of place in that suit, to be honest…” “So…he basically looks the same?” Crowley shrugged. “Yup. Why should he look any different?” Instead of answering, the angel just nodded. “What about the other demons? I mean…apart from…the decaying bit. If…Let’s say, they come up here, like Beelzebub did, choose a more human look…No, wait, I’m going about this wrong…What I mean is…So, it seems, Ligur’s basic appearance is the same, no matter if he’s a demon or an angel?”

Crowley frowned. “Uh…’m not sure I’m following you, Angel…You’re not really making much sense…” Aziraphale sighed. Even to himself, his words seemed rather cryptic. “Well…I was just wondering whether…Hmm…What did _you_ look like, as an angel?” Crowley’s eyebrows rose up in surprise. “Uh…ngk…I, uhm…Well…ya remember when we first met? On that wall, high above Eden?” “Oh, of course. How could I ever forget that?” “Well…basically…like that. Just…well, my wings used to be as white as yours and…so were my clothes…and…well…minus the snaky bits…”, he added, somewhat self-consciously.

“Oh…no snake eyes?” “Nah…”, Crowley shook his head. Aziraphale looked at him, intrigued: “What…did they look like, then? Your eyes?” “Uh…more normal? Well…no slit pupils, anyway…and…actually, they were…golden, I think…’s been so long ago, I hardly remember…” Aziraphale was still looking at him, head cocked and a slight frown on his face. He was obviously trying to picture Crowley with anything other than the serpentine yellow eyes he knew him with. Blushing, the demon looked away.

“So, you haven’t really…changed that much, though? Your human shape? I mean…not that much that you’d be…unrecognisable? Is that…true for all demons?”, the angel finally asked. Crowley shrugged. “S’ppose so, yeah…I mean…look at Ligur, right? And…well, some of us ended up with…some additional shapes, stuff like that…I mean, think of Satan, for instance…” Aziraphale nodded, but then he began to frown again. “But…if you still basically look very much the same…shouldn’t Gabriel have recognised you? Shouldn’t he…know?”

Crowley made a noise that was somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “Oh, ‘m sure he did. He sure knows who I used to be…’s just that I’m just a demon to him now. Whoever I once used to be doesn’t exist anymore. Dead and gone. B’sides, he prob’ly thinks that I don’t remember anyway. And why would he bother? He never cared much for…who I once was. And for who I am now, he prob’ly has nothing but disdain. Even more than before I Fell, that is.” Aziraphale let out a breath he’d been holding. “I’m sorry”, he muttered. But Crowley just shook his head with a soft chuckle. “’s fine, Angel. Nothing for you to apologise for. I don’t care what that prick thinks of me, anyway.” “Well, he probably thinks very little of both of us…”, Aziraphale mused.

After a moment of companionable silence, the angel frowned once again, staring at his glass of wine. “So…you didn’t have anything…snake-like about you before you Fell…but…you ended up with this…additional shape? Do…all demons have something like that?” He heard Crowley sigh. “Nah, they don’t. Some do, I reckon. And…well…at least I don’t walk around with some animal stuck to my head. Or thousands of copies of myself or something like that. But instead…well…Can’t really hide my eyes…” “You don’t have to…At least…not around me…I hope you know that…I…always thought they were…rather fascinating, you know…I quite like them…” Crowley tried to say something but all he managed were a few incoherent noises, while he was very aware of the fact that he was blushing to the tips of his ears. One look at Aziraphale, however, showed him that the angel was just as pink in the face as he assumed he himself probably was right now. Not knowing what to do, the demon took a sip of wine, noticing vaguely that the angel did the same.

“Why a snake, though? I mean…it suits you, but…”, Aziraphale began wondering after a while. Crowley hesitated, but only for a moment. “Well…ya know…I didn’t just create stars…I…ngh…Ya know, I’m not exactly good with animals…Wasn’t really involved in any of that, either…But…well, there was one thing I did come up with…one type of creature…to add to the fauna of the Earth, if ya like…Serpents. Thought it was funny, an animal with no legs. Was quite proud of my creation…” He smiled to himself at the memory of it. But after a moment, the smile wavered and then disappeared. “And then…well…When I Fell, I found myself like…like this…or rather, as a serpent. _The_ Serpent. I…always wondered why. What it was supposed to mean. If it was a…strange last parting gift from the Almighty or if it rather meant that She’d damned my creation alongside with me.”

With a sigh, Crowley leaned forward to place his now empty wine glass on the table, but he didn’t sit back. Instead, he remained in his current position, loosely holding the glass he’d placed on the table, staring at it, lost in his thoughts. He felt rather than saw Aziraphale leaning forward as well, until he put his hand atop Crowley’s that was still resting on the table. As Crowley looked up, the angel gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure it’s meant as a gift, my dear.” Crowley gave him a soft laugh. “Course you’d say that, Angel…” “I’m sure of it”, the angel insisted. The demon smiled back at him, grateful for the table between them – because otherwise, he’d have felt way too tempted in that moment to just reach out and try to kiss Aziraphale. And that was something he really, really couldn’t do.

“I’m sure it’s a gift, Crowley. I mean…look, it’s been useful quite a few times, I’m sure. You being able to turn into a snake. Just…think back to when we were locked up in Heaven. We would never have escaped if it hadn’t been for you being the Serpent of Eden. And…you said yourself, that shape feels natural for you. Sounds very much like a gift to me.” Crowley chuckled, somewhat self-consciously. The angel certainly had a point there. “And…”, Aziraphale continued, obviously pondering on it, “maybe…maybe God was trying to…well…make up for it, in a way…For taking away your ability to create. After all, that’s specifically angelic, you couldn’t possibly keep that. But you retained the ability that was innately yours, your gift of healing. That hasn’t been taken from you. And it’s been useful, don’t you think? Whereas being able to create…Well, frankly, there’s nothing much any angel can still do with that these days…Maybe…it’ll be some comfort for you that it’s…not that much of a loss, after all, perhaps…And…instead, you gained something else. Something uniquely you, same as the healing, something no one else can do…and something useful, too…”

Crowley sighed. “Well…not being able to hide my eyes has caused me quite a bit o’ trouble as well, though”, he objected. But the angel looked back at him with a peculiar smile. “Well, there has to be a catch somewhere, right?” The demon couldn’t help but smile back at Aziraphale and shook his head good-humouredly. He didn’t know how to object to the angel’s reasoning. And, in fact, he felt he didn’t want to.

Aziraphale reached for the bottle of wine and refilled both their glasses. “So…it seems, we’re officially safe from Heaven and…if Ligur makes it to Hell and to Hastur, I hope we’re also safe from anyone from Hell…What do you think?”, he asked. Crowley hummed and picked up his wine glass. “Well…I think it’s pretty likely we’re really safe for now…Finally…Until they find something else against us, I imagine…But for now…Guess we can celebrate…” With that, he grinned and raised his glass to clink it against Aziraphale’s in a triumphant toast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once the truth is out in the open, Crowley is more ready to talk about the past with Aziraphale - his feelings for the angel, however, are quite a different story altogether...But they'll get there too...in time...
> 
> I might take a little break, for a few reasons: First, I'm also writing a couple of oneshots for the 'Make the Yuletide Gay' prompts. Second, I'll be on holidays over Christmas and will have little time and even less internet connection. Third, my life has been rather stressful the last few weeks and I didn't get to write as much as I wanted - I've started chapter 31, so I'm a little bit ahead, but not as much as I would have liked.  
> But I promise I will definitely keep on writing, I have it all planned out and there's not that much left of the story, I reckon. Stick around (I hope you will), it'll be finished in a wee while! I also hope that (except for the Christmas week) I'll be able to stick to the schedule of posting once a week. If all goes well, I'll have some actual free time after Christmas, sooo...that sounds like the perfect time for some more extensive writing!


	29. This Thing Called Love, I Just Can’t Handle It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale spend the evening at the bookshop, talking. As it turns out, Aziraphale isn't quite over the fact that he almost lost his best friend...and there is also the fact that neither he nor Crowley quite dare to address their feelings for each other...

Aziraphale leaned back in his armchair with a groan. “Good Lord, I’m rather stuffed…” Crowley chuckled. “Too much sushi, Angel?” The angel looked back at his friend. Crowley was still sitting…well, more or less _sitting_ on the sofa, wine glass in hand and an amused grin on his face. “Well, you could have helped me a tad more, you know? It’s sushi. Would have been a shame to let it go to waste. It’s not like you’re supposed to keep it and eat it the next day…” The demon laughed. “Oh, come on, Angel. ‘s not like you couldn’t have kept it miraculously fresh…and I did help you – I ate quite a lot, actually. I just know how much you like this stuff. ‘s why I brought a generous amount.”

Crowley noticed that by now both their glasses were empty and so he moved to open the next bottle of wine and refilled the two glasses. Aziraphale accepted his glass back with a delighted smile. “So…about that…mischief you did with those fountains…”, he began, which caused Crowley to laugh again. Aziraphale smiled at him fondly – his best friend’s high spirits were definitely rubbing off on him. The demon began to retell the story of what exactly he’d done, how and where, smirking in mischievous delight. Aziraphale tutted and shook his head, but he couldn’t quite hide his own amusement. “Well, but I’m sure police are already investigating the matter”, he demurred, but Crowley just waved it off. “They sure are, but they won’t be able to find a thing.” “And the city cleaning services certainly weren’t very happy…” “Ha! At least, they had something to do, Angel. Kept ‘em somewhat busy, I’m sure…” The angel just shook his head once again. “You’re terrible”, he admonished Crowley, but after all, Crowley was a demon, so this only caused him to grin even wider. “Yeah, right, I know. Properly terrifying demon, me”, he chuckled.

For a moment, Aziraphale just looked at his friend, sitting there half sprawled on the sofa with his glass of wine and a broad smile on his face, relaxed and at ease. And for a moment, Aziraphale kept smiling. But then, rather unasked for, his thoughts returned to the events of the last few weeks…to the dangers they’d faced, with Heaven – or rather more specifically Gabriel – and Hell coming after them…and with Hastur and his very personal vendetta. And once again, the angel realised just how close he’d come to losing Crowley. How close he’d been to seeing no one sitting on that sofa. And then, there were all the things they’d both found out when he’d finally managed to get Crowley to talk about his past. The angel hadn’t even noticed that the smile had disappeared from his face.

Aziraphale might not have noticed…but Crowley had and cocked his head, frowning. “Angel? You alright?” “Huh?”, Aziraphale needed a moment to come back to the here and now. “Oh…I’m fine, Crowley…Just tickety-boo…” But the demon just quirked an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar, ya know that, Aziraphale? B’sides, ‘m pretty sure angels aren’t supposed to lie in the first place…” Aziraphale huffed. “Alright, fine…I just…I was just thinking back to…A lot has happened recently, Crowley, and…good Heavens, I almost lost you. I mean…you risked your life to protect me…and…well…that…that wouldn’t have been just discorporation…Which would have been bad enough, you know? But I’d have moved Heaven and Hell to get you back…But this? This would have been…permanent. We…we stopped Armageddon together, we saved the world…but…I…I wouldn’t…I…Without you…” _It’s only worth saving if I can share it with you_ , he thought but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.

For a moment, Aziraphale struggled, trying to keep talking, but failing. He was fairly certain that his face betrayed his emotions well enough anyway. But he also noticed that Crowley was staring at him with an expression that wasn’t too different from his own. “’s alright, Angel…I’m still here, I’m alive, I’m fine…Not that easy to kill, ya know? And…’course I’d protect you…You’d have done the same…” “Yes, of course I would have…But…Crowley, I really wouldn’t want you to lose your own life, protecting mine…I mean…that’s not really worth it…I…I mean…Of…of course I’m grateful…I just…I wouldn’t…really want to be…” _I wouldn’t want to be saved for the price of losing you. I wouldn’t want to be alone, without you_. Once again, the words remained unsaid. Aziraphale wanted to kick himself. He was messing this up. Crowley had risked his life for him and now he made it sound as if he didn’t even appreciate that. Since when was he so bad with words?

Crowley stared at the angel for a moment, watching him struggling for words and wringing his hands. Finally, the demon sighed. “Angel…listen. It’s all fine. It’s alright. I’m fine, you’re fine – we’re both okay. As I said, I’m not that easy to kill and I know you’d do anything to protect me, same as I did. B’sides…if…if you’re really right about…about the Almighty and…and Her ineffable plan…well, then we’re meant to…sort of…be here together, right? So, means it’s gonna be fine, we’ll be alright. Ya won’t get rid of me that easily, I’m afraid…You’re stuck with me, Angel. According to your own arguments, this is…sorta…part of God’s plan. So don’t fret, Aziraphale, everything is fine. We won, ya know? Gabriel’s in trouble for messing with us, and so is Hastur, ‘m pretty sure of that. And if Ligur can reach him…Well, anyway, I doubt he’ll try anything again any time soon. We wanted to celebrate, remember?”

Aziraphale looked at him somewhat teary-eyed, but he smiled. “You really are an eternal optimist, aren’t you?”, he muttered, but when Crowley raised his glass, he did the same. “To the world…and to us”, the demon said, and the angel was all too happy to toast to that. “Thank you, Crowley…I’m sorry…I was just…You see, I…just didn’t want to…to lose you…”, he admitted a little later. Crowley just gave him a smile. “You won’t, Angel. As I said…tough demon, can’t be killed that easily. Would be against God’s plan, too.” Aziraphale smiled back at him and reached for the wine bottle again, only to find it empty. “Oh…oh dear…Guess we need another bottle…Châteauneuf-du-Pape?” Crowley’s grin would have been a sufficient answer already, but the demon still confirmed with something along the lines of “sounds great, Angel.”

A moment later, Aziraphale returned, two more bottles in hand. He opened one, refilled their glasses and placed the bottles on the table, but he didn’t return to his armchair. Instead, he moved to sit down beside Crowley on the sofa. By now, both of them were already somewhat tipsy, but far from the stages of ‘drunk’ they’d occasionally reached. Crowley wasn’t that surprised when the angel plopped down next to him. Not anymore. Instead, he just grabbed his glass, waited for Aziraphale to pick up his own and then clinked their glasses together – another toast, for good measure.

To Crowley’s relief, Aziraphale seemed to be back to his usual cheerful self. The evening was getting later and both demon and angel were getting somewhat more inebriated, chattering away about this and that. “Wass thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ ssome new plantsss tomorrow…Had t-to throw ssome out…”, Crowley slurred, his speech interrupted by a hiccup. “Oh…the poor dears…”, the angel mumbled. “Wanna come along?” Aziraphale frowned, his mind still occupied with the plants Crowley had thrown out as he’d said, so that the angel had no idea right now where to Crowley wanted him to come along. The demon slightly rolled his eyes. “I ssaid I wanna get ssome new plantss t’morrow…Ssso…jussst assked ya if ya wanna come along…Might find sssome’ing nice for your shop, too…” “Ah…I s-see…Plant shopping…That sounds delightful, my dear…”, Aziraphale agreed, slightly hiccupping but finally understanding. Even in his current state, he was aware that that would mean a ride in the Bentley, but he found that, right now, he didn’t care.

Plant shopping with Crowley…Well, that was something new. And something, Aziraphale found, he was looking forward to. Without even thinking any further about what he was doing, he reached out and put his hand on Crowley’s thigh. “So you’ll stay here for tonight? We can…can leave right after breakfast…ooor…whene’er you like…” The demon stared at him for a moment, struggling through a string of consonants – and when he found himself utterly unable to reply, he simply nodded. With the heat rushing up all the way to his ears, he was fairly certain that he was blushing terribly, and he could only hope that Aziraphale was too drunk to notice. Or…was the angel actually doing this on purpose? He was a bit of a bastard, after all…But then again, Aziraphale did seem to be at least as jingled as Crowley felt himself, despite the copious amounts of sushi he’d eaten before. Well, in all probability, it meant nothing. It couldn’t…right?

The moment passed as quickly as it had come – the angel simply nodded, apparently satisfied with Crowley’s nonverbal answer, retreated and sat back, contemplating his wine glass for a moment. The demon sighed in relief, trying his best to collect himself. It was getting rather late…and they were both getting rather drunk…Maybe it was best to call it a night before either of them ended up doing anything stupid. “Guessss…maybe we should…sssober up? An’…get sssome sssleep? What d’ya think, Angel?” Aziraphale blinked at him a few times. “Hmm…I…I seem to recall, my dear boy, tha’ I said that we should…prob-…-blably do that if either ‘f us says so, right?”, he pondered. “Yeah, ya did”, Crowley confirmed. “Right”, the angel nodded, and a moment later both angel and demon were sober once more, the alcohol leaving a rather unpleasant taste in their mouths.

“Let’s call it a night, shall we?”, Crowley mumbled, and a mere moment later, he disappeared into the bedroom upstairs – rather rashly, in fact, and still obviously quite lost in his own thoughts and feelings. Aziraphale was left alone downstairs in the bookshop, somewhat puzzled by Crowley’s surprisingly hasty retreat and trying to put all the rather fuzzy details of their drunken ramblings back together. Had he…done something wrong? Overstepped in any way? He wasn’t quite sure and the details remained somewhat blurry. Ultimately, the angel shrugged it off and settled down for the night with a book.

Meanwhile, Crowley sat down on the bed upstairs, buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that situation. And he wasn’t sure at all for how long he could continue doing this. Without doing anything stupid, that was. But he had to, somehow – after all, the angel had pushed him away before. He couldn’t, wouldn’t make the same mistake again – going too fast again and messing things up. But then again…since when had Aziraphale become so…touchy-feely? This wasn’t exactly making things easier. Crowley had no idea how to interpret whatever signals the angel was giving. He groaned and just fell down backwards onto the mattress. A part of him wished that he’d insisted on going home instead – back at his flat, he could have taken a cold shower. A very cold one. He couldn’t very well do this here. And…the fact that this was actually Aziraphale’s bed didn’t exactly help, either. But then again, the angel hardly ever used it, right? Except…when they’d shared it… _Hnnng, not helping!_ Crowley sighed again and decided that he might as well try to get a good night’s sleep somehow.

After having read for quite some time, Aziraphale noticed that the somewhat fuzzy details of the evening were beginning to reassemble themselves in his mind. Suddenly, he put the book down, staring wide-eyed into space. If he hadn’t been an angel, he probably would have cursed, but as it was, he just groaned and buried his face in his hands. It had been that touch, hadn’t it? What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been…rather surprisingly drunk. Especially, if he considered that Crowley probably hadn’t been quite as drunk – which was even more surprising, considering that Aziraphale had eaten a lot of sushi before. He did a quick calculation from memory and arrived at the conclusion that he must have had a few glasses more than the demon. Well…that explained things…at least somewhat.

 _Why have you done this, you fool? You clearly chased him off_ , he couldn’t help thinking. But well, there were a few answers to that question, after all: Yes, actual casual touches were relatively new – after all, anything beyond a handshake (well, technically, even that) would have been way too dangerous right up until ‘Armageddidn’t’. But then…hadn’t things changed since then? They’d even already slept in the same bed! Cuddling, even. And…Crowley had slept in his lap…and there had been a few hugs, too. _But all that has always been under very specific circumstances and for very specific reasons. You’re friends. Best friends, and as it seems, Crowley wants it to stay that way. You’ve been there for him, offering comfort when he needed it. Doesn’t mean he actually wants…more than that…does it?_

Aziraphale sighed. If he was being honest, he had no idea. Yes, he was in love and he did have his desires, but he wasn’t sure at all what Crowley would have to say to that. And now he began to wonder if he’d unintentionally somehow taken advantage of his best friend’s moments of distress and weakness and manoeuvred them into a position they shouldn’t be in, as friends. _But_ he _snuggled up against you! And not just this once!,_ he tried to object to himself, _He didn’t complain! Quite the contrary…And…remember, there was that night when you both got drunk and woke up on the sofa…Well…and you know what came after that_ …

The angel sighed again, frustrated. That argument following that drunken night of theirs was something he’d much rather forget about. At least, if Crowley wasn’t interested in him in that way, this proved Gabriel’s words wrong. At least partly. Or did it? Crowley obviously wasn’t planning to seduce him, as Gabriel had suggested. That idea was truly preposterous. On the contrary, Crowley would’ve had a perfect chance here and he hadn’t taken it. Maybe the demon wasn’t interested because he simply didn’t feel attracted to Aziraphale. Not in that way, at least. Or maybe…he wasn’t into that at all? But somehow, that didn’t quite seem to explain Crowley’s reaction, either. It was way more likely that there was some truth to some of Gabriel’s words, after all…What could anyone, let alone someone like Crowley, possibly see in a fussy angel like him? The fact that the demon had pretty much fled seemed to be a sufficient answer…or wasn’t it? After all, Crowley had seemed oddly flustered…

Or was it…because Aziraphale had pushed the demon away too often? Or…because of some other reason he couldn’t even think of? The angel wished he knew, but apart from actually asking Crowley directly and bluntly, there was no way he could know what his friend was thinking…and feeling. _Could_ demons feel anything like love at all? Aziraphale was absolutely certain that Crowley liked him and cared about him. Cared about him a lot, in fact – enough to risk his own life for him…but still.

The common notion was that demons were incapable of feeling anything akin to _love_. But there was no way he could bring himself to ask questions like these. If anything, this would only cast a shadow of terrible awkwardness over their friendship. And he’d just make a fool of himself. No, it was certainly better to keep his mouth shut and…maybe keep testing a bit, attempting to find out what footing they were on, exactly. What was okay to do and what was crossing the lines. And if they were meant to remain ‘just’ friends, well, Aziraphale was fully prepared to be happy with that. With his resolution formed, the angel finally turned his attention back to his book.

Sometime after sunrise, Aziraphale made his way upstairs to start preparing breakfast. He’d just put the kettle on when he heard a hearty yawn, followed by a muffled “Mornin’, ‘ngel…” from the kitchen door. Aziraphale turned around with a bright smile. “Oh, rise and shine, my dear! Did you sleep well?” Crowley blinked slowly at him, but he hummed, nodded and shambled into the kitchen. “I…assume you’ll want some coffee?”, the angel asked and moved to start preparing that as well.

The caffeine seemed to have its intended effect – at any rate, Crowley soon appeared to be way more awake than when he’d stumbled through the kitchen door. Soon enough, demon and angel were back to talking animatedly, with the angel eating a hearty amount of breakfast, while Crowley settled for just coffee, too busy talking to bother about food. “Well, I thought I’d go…well, plant shopping, as you phrased it, sometime after breakfast? Noon, afternoon? Did _you_ have any plans?” Aziraphale pondered his friend’s question for a moment. “Well, I wanted to finish that one book I was reading last night…It’s not that much. I guess I could do that in an hour or so…And, of course, there’s the newspaper, too…And I could rearrange my books, but the weather appears to be rather lovely today, so I guess I might as well postpone that for a rainy day…”, he mused. Crowley nodded. This sounded fine to him – let the angel read for a bit and then they could go out together, buy some plants, maybe go feed the ducks, get something nice for lunch…A perfect day, surely.

Thus, a little later, Aziraphale was once more sitting in his armchair, another cup of tea in front of him, his – entirely unnecessary – reading glasses perched on his nose and the newspaper spread open in his hands. He’d already finished the book which was currently resting on the table, just beside his cup of tea. The last time he’d looked, Crowley had got up from the sofa to stalk around the shop – apparently, even playing with your phone did eventually get boring. With a final sigh, the angel folded the newspaper, placed it on the table, finished his tea and looked around. He couldn’t see Crowley anywhere, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. After all, there were enough nooks and crannies in the shop where the demon might currently be lurking.

“Crowley?”, the angel asked as he got up from his armchair. There was no reply, however. This was odd…He hadn’t heard Crowley go out, after all, and the Bentley was also still parked on the curb. Aziraphale frowned and shook his head. He began to walk around the shop, checking behind all the shelves and in all the corners, wondering where that wily serpent had disappeared to – and he began to worry slightly. “Crowley?”, he asked again and it was then that he heard a slight hiss from…one of the windows? He turned to look at the window, squinting slightly, because the sun was shining into the room through precisely that window, but then he finally found Crowley. Or rather, what he did see were the coils of a huge serpent lounging on the window sill, the slightly iridescent black scales positively gleaming in the sunlight.

With a slight chuckle, Aziraphale walked over to the window. “Enjoying the sun, dear boy?”, he asked. The serpent, very obviously basking in the warmth of the sunlight, raised his head lazily, tongue flicking out to taste the air. Out of the corner of his eye, the angel noticed a few passers-by staring at the window with a peculiar mixture of fear and fascination before quickly hurrying past it. “Well, I guess now I know why nobody has even tried to come in yet”, he grinned, “it seems you’re quite the efficient customer deterrent.” He watched the snake glide down from the window sill and transform back into the human shape he was so familiar with.

Crowley grinned and shrugged. “Don’t even know why. Didn’t even threaten anyone, just wanted to enjoy the sunshine. Guess most humans have a problem with a huge snake lounging in a window, for some reason…” Aziraphale shook his head, smiling. “Well, I don’t understand it, dear, you’re such a pretty snake, after all.” The angel wasn’t quite sure where he’d found the cheeky boldness to say this, but seeing Crowley blush violently while struggling through a string of inarticulate consonants was definitely worth it. And it wasn’t a lie, either. Thus, when the demon finally managed to shake his head in disbelief, the angel insisted: “Oh, yes, I mean it. You do look rather fetching as a serpent. Must be, you’re _the_ Serpent, after all.” “Oh, ssstop it now, will ya”, Crowley finally managed to say and strode past him to go and grab his sunglasses from the table where he’d left them. Aziraphale just smiled and shook his head, gazing after the demon, until Crowley actually called him: “Well, aren’t ya coming, Angel? Thought we wanted to go plant shopping…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they are two ineffable idiots, aren't they? They already successfully discussed the past - now, if they'd only manage to talk about what they mean to each other...But as it is, both have their fears and doubts...
> 
> I'll be on holidays for Christmas, so I'm not quite sure if I'll be able to upload anything next week, but I might be able to use the holidays for some writing (which is definitely necessary, otherwise I'll run out of chapters to post). Stay safe, all of you, and have a merry Christmas, Yule, Hanukkah, Winter Solstice... (if you celebrate any of these). My best wishes to you all!


	30. Through City Traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After going plant shopping together, Crowley and Aziraphale find themselves stuck in heavy city traffic - and Crowley certainly isn't the most patient driver...especially not when he's actually getting somewhat hungry...

They’d spent a considerable amount of time shopping for plants. Crowley was understandably rather picky when it came to whatever greenery he wanted for his flat – and, as it seemed, even more picky when they tried to choose a few plants for the bookshop. After all, they needed to be easy to care for and still look nice. Aziraphale would have been delighted with any plants – and he could most definitely ensure that any plants stayed miraculously fine, even if he forgot to take proper care of them – but he certainly wouldn’t argue with Crowley in this respect. After all, Aziraphale admittedly wasn’t an expert when it came to plants and he was well aware of the fact that choosing the right plants for the bookshop was apparently very important to Crowley.

They ended up with a variety of different plants, both for the bookshop and for the flat, a few specimens of epipremnum among them, specifically for Aziraphale to take care of. Crowley had told him with a smirk that one of the names this plant was known under was ‘devil’s ivy’. “And not even you will be able to accidentally kill it, Angel. These plants pretty much survive anything. It will even thrive in the darkest corners of your shop – all it needs is water. Doesn’t even require any soil. Very hardy little fellows. True survivors, these plants. And they are excellent air-cleaners, too”, Crowley explained while they were loading all the plants into the back of the Bentley. Aziraphale nodded, mentally making a checklist for what the plants would and wouldn’t need and where he might put them. This truly sounded like a good and easy kind of plant to get started with.

The angel was still contemplating when Crowley gave him a nudge and nodded towards the open car door. “C’mon, Angel, get in…” With that, the demon sauntered around to the driver’s side. When they were both seated, Aziraphale turned to smile at his friend. “Well, this was nice…Thank you…” “Ah, don’t mention it”, Crowley just replied, shaking his head. “So…what now?”, he asked instead. Aziraphale pondered for a moment. “Well, it’s already quite a bit past lunch, but still too early for tea or dinner…”, he began, somewhat hesitantly, so Crowley jumped in: “Wanna go feed the ducks, then? We could do that and…drive somewhere nice for a meal after that…Whenever you feel like it…” The angel’s face positively lit up with a smile. “That sounds quite like a perfect plan, Crowley”, he agreed. Crowley smiled back at him. “Right”, he said and started the car.

They hadn’t expected the city traffic to be quite as heavy. Crowley soon got annoyed by how slowly they were moving and, knowing the demon’s usual driving style, Aziraphale understood that rather well. Still, Crowley’s frustrated groaning and grumbling and the fact that his fingers were drumming on the steering wheel restlessly were somewhat disconcerting for the angel. “Crowley, we’re not in a hurry, it’s fine”, he tried to soothe his friend, but all he got in reply was a frustrated hiss.

After a while, traffic was beginning to run more smoothly again, but there was hardly any chance for Crowley to speed up, with too many cars in the way. It had dampened his mood rather considerably. And there was something else that was annoying him – Aziraphale noticed that the demon kept glancing into the rear-view mirror repeatedly, gritting his teeth, huffing and hissing as he did so. “Crowley? Is everything alright?”, Aziraphale asked after another display of this kind. But instead of replying, Crowley just glared into the mirror again and finally exploded: “Oh, go on, make my day! Drive into my car, I dare you, you insufferable wanker!” “Crowley!”, Aziraphale admonished gently, flinching slightly at his friend’s outburst, and turned around to look behind. Indeed, the driver right behind them was definitely tailgating them.

The angel frowned. “What an obnoxious person…”, he muttered. “Obnoxious? Complete arsehole! This is a vintage Bentley – if that prick damages it, he couldn’t even afford to pay for half of what it’d cost to get it fixed!” “But…Crowley, this is _your_ car, you could fix it with a miracle…”, Aziraphale tried to object. He couldn’t see for sure, but he knew Crowley well enough to know that the demon was rolling his eyes. “Does he know that?! No, he mossst certainly doesssn’t! And that’sss not the point! Can’t move faster…Would if I could”, Crowley added, grumbling.

Aziraphale cast his friend another glance, then he turned around once more, glaring at the young driver in the car behind them. The thing was, he could actually relate to Crowley in this. He’d had a group of young children storm his shop once, with sticky fingers covered in ice cream and chocolate and whatnot grabbing for priceless antique manuscripts. It had taken a considerable amount of self-control and quite a few miracles to get them to leave and to fix whatever damages they had caused. He felt protective of his books – and he knew how much Crowley loved his Bentley. As Aziraphale was glancing out of the rear window, he could see the car behind them getting even closer – it must be close to actually making contact. He felt rather than saw Crowley stiffen beside him and tremble with half-suppressed fury. This would escalate terribly, and soon, he realised. Aziraphale huffed, his own patience quickly running thin. He snapped his fingers and the car behind them fell back and was soon a good way behind them.

Crowley looked into the mirror again and did a double take. “Uh…Angel? What…did you just do?” Aziraphale blushed. “Oh…well, I couldn’t have that person ruin your car, so…I guess I might have just…blown his engine…?” Crowley opened his mouth, but it took him a while to actually come up with a response, while trying his best to divide his attention between the angel beside him and the traffic. “You bastard…Why didn’t _I_ think of that?” Crowley shook his head, a slight smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth. He felt somewhat torn between amusement and lingering annoyance. Aziraphale shrugged. “Well, I guess you were a tad distracted…”, he ventured. The demon nodded. “Quite…”, he muttered, turning his attention back to the road.

Crowley sighed and shook his head once again, frowning. He was still not quite over the situation and was still wondering what to make of Aziraphale’s intervention. And traffic was still so _slow!_ Not as bad as before, but still – too many cars, not enough road. Then, the car in front of him suddenly slowed down to an almost stop, only to then crawl off into a side street. The demon groaned. “Oh, blessed S-…Someone! You’re not driving a bus! Move, your car won’t fall over, ya know?! No need to carry it! And indicating would be nice, too! Moron…” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, but preferred not to comment on this.

Soon enough, Crowley himself wasn’t behaving much better than the young driver who’d been irritating him so much by tailgating them. If anything, Crowley’s current driving style was…rude. Impatient. Even more so than usual, that was. To some extent, Aziraphale could understand his friend – after all, he knew well enough that Crowley’s preferred speed was well above the regular speed limits, while they currently had to stay a good deal below what would have been legal. Another car squeezed itself into their lane, forcing Crowley to slam the brakes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! If you’re cutting me off, then at least move your arse and _get going!_ ”, he yelled at the driver who couldn’t hear him anyway. Aziraphale, however, did and flinched in his seat.

Crowley rolled his eyes and hissed angrily. Fortunately, the car in front of them did speed up a little. Still, the demon changed lanes to overtake – only for the lane he’d just switched into to stop moving. Crowley groaned rather dramatically. There were traffic lights some distance ahead – and they were green, but while the cars in the other lane were moving, the ones in this one weren’t. “Probably someone up front who wants to make a turn…”, Aziraphale guessed. “Probably”, Crowley grumbled, rolling his eyes yet again. When the cars finally started to move again, the traffic lights had already switched to red. The demon sighed in exasperation, fingers back to drumming against the steering wheel.

When the lights finally turned to green once more, the car in front of them began to move rather more slowly that the ones ahead of it and those in the other lane. With a hiss, Crowley pushed down the gas pedal, swerved and switched lanes, overtook the car and pulled back into the lane right in front of it. This rather rude move earned him a few hoots from the other drivers. “Wot?!”, he snarled angrily, not caring that none of them would be able to hear him anyway. Aziraphale rolled his eyes. He’d been fighting back the urge to say something, but by now, he found that he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Crowley! We have plants in this car! If you’re driving like this they’ll fall around all over the place!” “Nah, they won’t. Not if they know what’s good for them.” Aziraphale sighed at that.

It didn’t take long for the next incident to happen: A car in front of them seemed about to switch lanes…or not? It ended up staying almost in the middle, using half of both lanes. “Oi! Get out of my lane!”, Crowley yelled, hooting at the car for good measure. It swerved slightly, before finally moving to the other lane. The demon hissed yet again, doing a mock imitation of what he imagined the other driver to say: “Oh, pardon me, could you please tell me where I want to go? Because I have _no blasted clue!_ ” The angel beside him sighed again. “Would you please calm down, Crowley? I’d like to survive this drive if you don’t mind…” Crowley half turned to look at his friend briefly. “When have I ever got us discorporated? You’re being overly dramatic, it’s all under control! Jussst all thossse idiotsss out here today…”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and cast Crowley another glance. “Crowley…would you like a biscuit?” The demon looked rather taken aback. “Wot?” Aziraphale sighed. “My dear, you know I always take something along…In case anyone gets peckish…Are you…?” “’m not eating biscuits in the car while driving!” But Aziraphale was already twisting around, trying to reach for the tin box he’d placed behind his seat. Realising that he couldn’t physically reach it, he summoned it into his hands. “Don’t be silly, dear. You can be rather…irritable when you’re hungry, you know? So…”, he opened the lid and fished out a biscuit, “…here, have a biscuit!”

Crowley huffed and rolled his eyes very expressively behind his dark glasses. But Aziraphale wouldn’t be argued with. “Keep your hands on the steering wheel, attention on the road. Just open your mouth!” “Ngh…”, the demon stammered, somewhat flustered, before he managed a “fine” and did as the angel had told him. In fact, maybe he was a bit hungry. Not just a bit if he was being honest. And he had to admit that the biscuits were rather…tasty. Aziraphale handed him a few more and enjoyed some himself, until he heard the demon chuckle. He looked up to see Crowley shake his head, grinning ever so slightly. The angel smiled softly and put the lid back on the tin, before sending it back to its place behind his seat.

“Better?”, the angel asked, once he was properly seated once again. Crowley nodded. “Yeah…better…Thanks, Angel…Sorry…” He sounded somewhat sheepish, but Aziraphale just smiled at him. He’d seen this happen before, after all. It was a rare thing for Crowley to actually get hungry, but if that happened, the demon usually became rather irritable and short-tempered. Driving while in this mood surely wasn’t a particularly good idea. “It’s alright, my dear. No matter! I…know what it’s like, after all. I’m not quite myself when I’m hungry, either”, the angel said, still smiling. Crowley didn’t quite trust his own voice, so he didn’t reply. Instead, he just smiled back and slightly shook his head once again.

A moment later, Crowley reached out to switch on the radio. _‘Killer Queen’_ came on, followed by _‘A Kind of Magic’_. Traffic was finally moving way more smoothly once again and Crowley was back in his element, relaxing in his seat while speeding along between the other cars. Aziraphale clutched the edge of his own seat occasionally, but he felt relieved to see that the drumming of Crowley’s fingers on the steering wheel was now simply in rhythm to the music, with the demon humming along. Now and again, Aziraphale felt tempted to join in, and eventually, he did.

When _‘We Are the Champions’_ came on, Crowley actually began to sing along, and, listening, Aziraphale couldn’t help thinking how much the lyrics of the first verse actually seemed to fit the demon. He’d definitely made a few mistakes back then and he’d paid for them, but Aziraphale still refused to believe that Crowley had done anything that justified his Fall – no actual crime to speak of. He wasn’t quite sure if Crowley himself might entertain similar thoughts, but right now, Aziraphale didn’t feel like asking and spoiling the mood. Instead, he smiled, listened, humming along, and felt more tempted than ever to join in.

He finally did precisely that at the chorus. This was…new…but nice – the two of them singing along together, loudly and without bothering if either one of them might end up singing off-key. They’d never done this before, but it felt just right. And with both Heaven and Hell finally no longer after them, they did feel like…well, like champions. What better song to sing along to than this? It fit perfectly! They had fought – to the end, the very end of the world – and they had won. The champions of the world, indeed. Aziraphale smiled joyfully when the song ended, and as he looked over to Crowley, he saw that the demon was smiling back at him. One of those rare open, warm and genuine smiles that he seemed to have reserved for Aziraphale alone.

The next song that came on was _‘You’re My Best Friend’_. Crowley opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t manage anything apart from a few incomprehensible noises. He looked away, briefly glaring at the radio, before turning his attention back to the road. “Ah, would ya look at that! Here we are, almost at the park already. And a perfect spot here on the curb – we can walk the rest of the way…” With that, he pulled over, parked the car and moved to get out. Aziraphale frowned slightly. Usually, Crowley drove as close to any place as possible, and while St James’s Park was just around the corner from here, the demon normally wouldn’t have stopped here and chosen the first opportunity to park. After all, he could be sure to always find the most convenient spots for his Bentley, anyway. And if he got fined or anything, well, he never needed to worry about that, either. And…had Crowley actually blushed when that song came on? Slightly shaking his head, Aziraphale got out of the car as well and followed his friend in the direction of the park, miracling up some oats for the ducks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat belated, but as I said, I forgot my laptop at home and hope to find some more time to write now that I'm back home.  
> Epipremnum is a very hardy plant indeed, and very under-appreciated, I think. What Crowley says about it is absolutely true.  
> As for Crowley not quite being himself when hungry, there were three inspirations behind this: I myself, for one, scare myself sometimes when I'm hungry. Then, there were those funny ads for 'Snickers' and the third thing was a comment Douglas Mackinnon made on Twitter when people pointed out the tin box Aziraphale had put in the back of the Bentley and asked if this was in case Aziraphale got peckish. Douglas corrected this: "in case Crowley got peckish". So, I figured, there must be something behind that.


	31. To Hold Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After feeding the ducks, Aziraphale and Crowley spend some time at the park and end up holding hands. When they finally leave to get a bite to eat, they stumble across a somewhat confused street preacher, whose rather embarrassing conduct continues to amuse them greatly...but it ultimately also leads to Aziraphale accidentally bursting out a confession he'd very much intended to keep to himself...

The weather was lovely. They’d fed the ducks for a while and when they’d run out of oats, they’d sat down on their usual bench, just watching the duckpond and the people, phases of companionable silence interspersed with chattery banter. Right now, they were sitting in silence once again. Crowley leaned back against the back of the bench, slouching as usual and very obviously enjoying the sun, face tilted upwards and eyes closed behind his sunglasses. Aziraphale glanced over at him, watching him for a moment, and couldn’t help smiling fondly. The angel’s gaze fell on Crowley’s hand resting on the seat of the bench between them. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he gathered his courage and gently placed his own hand on top of Crowley’s. Of course, they’d shaken hands before, even held hands, but…there had usually been a reason for that, even if that reason was simple exhaustion. But as casually as this? And out in the open? As it was, the angel felt Crowley’s hand flinch slightly beneath his own. He was half expecting the demon to pull away, but to his relief, that didn’t happen.

Instead, Crowley turned his head to stare at their hands for a moment, frowning and opening his mouth to say something – without success, since all he managed was a string of consonants. But his hand remained where it was, covered by Aziraphale’s. The angel, too, was looking at their hands and then at Crowley, giving him a shy smile. He wasn’t quite sure if he himself was blushing, but he could have sworn that Crowley was. After a moment, however, Crowley began to move his hand and, with a pang of regret, Aziraphale lifted his own slightly. Well, if this was crossing a line and Crowley had enough, then he’d accept that.

But to his surprise – and relief – Crowley didn’t actually mean to pull away at all. Instead, he just turned his hand around, palm up, and stretched out his fingers in a gesture of invitation. Aziraphale tried his best to suppress a gasp of surprise, but he accepted the offer without hesitating. They entwined their fingers, both of them staring at their interlocked hands for a moment. When they looked up at each other, both noticed that the other was smiling softly. Crowley cleared his throat and looked away, gazing at the pond once more, but he held on to the angel’s hand in his. It felt…warm and soft, yet strong and firm, and…safe. Comforting. Grounding. Calming, even, despite the fact that it made his heart flutter a little. And it felt…right. This was new…but certainly nice. Even though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, he wanted to keep this for a while longer.

They remained there on the bench for quite a while, watching the ducks, the people, everything around them and simply holding hands. “Uhm…would you…like us to, uh…go and get a bite to eat somewhere, Angel?”, Crowley finally asked. Aziraphale smiled. “That sounds lovely, my dear”, he agreed, but when they got up, neither of them really wanted to let go. So, they ended up walking hand in hand, strolling back into the direction of where Crowley had left the Bentley.

They hadn’t even reached the car yet when they heard someone shouting somewhere around a corner. It sounded very much like a somewhat delusional street preacher of some kind. Both demon and angel stared at each other, raising their eyebrows, but while Aziraphale gave a somewhat exasperated sigh, Crowley began to grin. “C’mon, Angel, let’s go take a look – could be fun, this one…”, he said and tugged on the angel’s hand to pull him along. Aziraphale chuckled softly, amused by his friend’s obvious curiosity.

As they rounded the corner, Crowley and Aziraphale almost bumped into a woman who was shaking her head and hurrying away. Then, they finally laid eyes on the person who had caused the woman to shake her head – the very person they had heard shouting before. It appeared to be some middle-aged man holding up a sign in one hand and some leaflets in the other that he apparently wanted to hand out to interested passers-by. As they realised now, he was proclaiming some decidedly scatterbrained, weird, pseudo-religious nonsense. Aziraphale raised both eyebrows and tried his best to put on a mask of polite astonishment, but when he cast a short glance at Crowley, he saw that the demon wasn’t even trying to hide his broad grin.

The angel looked back to the apparently confused and delusional man and noticed that there was something written on the sign the man was holding up, and he began to read. “ _‘Awaken Ye Lams! Get a…Brian? Fight Santanism!’_ What does that even mean?”, the angel asked, frowning. He heard Crowley snort beside him and could feel that the demon was shaking. Somewhat alarmed, he turned to his friend, only to notice that Crowley was currently trying very hard not to laugh too loudly. His right hand was still entwined with Aziraphale’s, but he had his left hand clamped over his mouth. Still, he couldn’t quite suppress a few little high-pitched squeaks of laughter. Now that Aziraphale had actually read the sign out loud, it was beginning to dawn on him, what the man had actually wanted to say and he couldn’t stop himself from beginning to grin as well. Crowley’s amusement was rather infectious, too, and soon enough, Aziraphale felt a few giggles bubbling up within him.

By now, the man had noticed them. “Ye two! Ye will soon stop laughing once ye hear my words! We must all stand together and fight! The lambs will triumph over the wolves – take a leaflet and put your faith in our Lord, the great shepherd who sitteth with the angels and playeth the harp in the clouds! We must not let the Evil One win! The Devil is nothing but a horned snake in the grass at our feet!” He waved one of his leaflets in their direction. But the image of the Almighty as a shepherd playing the harp on some cloud was too much for Aziraphale – the angel burst into laughter. “Oh dear!”, he gasped, still laughing, and it was only now that he noticed that Crowley had pretty much lost it as well and was positively cackling.

“This is no laughing matter! Take this seriously”, the man insisted, even more infuriated by their laughter, “Awaken, ye lambs, awaken!” With that, he pushed a leaflet into Aziraphale’s hand and, quite in reflex, the angel took it. “We are quite awake, my good man, I assure you”, Aziraphale tried to protest, still giggling and trying to wipe a few tears from his eyes. “More awake than you”, he heard Crowley chime in. Still chuckling, the demon turned to Aziraphale. “C’mon, Angel, let’s go…pfff…lamb…Well, at least ya have the hair for that…” This was enough for them both to burst into another fit of giggles while they turned around to walk back to Crowley’s Bentley.

Crowley was still grinning and chuckling to himself while he drove them to a little French restaurant that Aziraphale had suggested. “Well, actually, we should probably feel sorry for that poor, deluded man”, the angel mused. “Nonsense! I’m a demon, I’m fresh out of ‘sorry’ today. That was way too much fun for that…and I’d doubt he’d be all that grateful for an actual angel to burst his bubble”, Crowley objected. Aziraphale was about to protest, when the demon pushed down the gas pedal and the angel found himself pressed into his seat. “Wheeeeee!”, he heard Crowley say, and when he finally managed to cast a short glance at his friend, there was no mistaking the demon’s grin: Crowley was clearly having an awfully good time.

When he sped across a red light, however, the angel had enough. “Crowley! Quite frankly, I find your way of driving rather disconcerting. I’ve told you numerous times! I’d very much like to stay alive if you don’t mind.” Crowley rolled his eyes. The next traffic lights were just switching to yellow. The demon slammed on the brakes and the Bentley skidded to a halt at the lights, tyres screeching. Aziraphale was flung forward against the dashboard and then back into his seat. Gasping, the angel turned around with indignation. “Crowley! What –” “Happy now, Angel? This what you prefer?” Aziraphale huffed. Crowley’s grin was positively unbearable. “That’s…not how I meant it and you know it”, he protested weakly. The demon was still grinning broadly. Aziraphale sighed. “And stop smirking like that, you wily serpent…Just…drive carefully, please. If you don’t mind.” “Always do”, Crowley muttered, but he did slow down a little for the rest of the way.

Sometime later, they were sitting at a little table by the window in the little French restaurant Aziraphale had picked and the angel was just enjoying the last few bites of the crêpe he’d ordered for dessert. It might not be quite as good as the ones he’d had in Paris, but it was rather delicious and he hummed in appreciation. Crowley smirked ever so slightly and took another sip of wine. One of the perks of being a supernatural entity was definitely that he could go out with his best friend, have as many drinks as he liked and still be perfectly capable of driving home completely sober. That was an advantage he clearly enjoyed. And…then, there was another thing Crowley very much enjoyed about going out to all kinds of fancy restaurants with Aziraphale: Watching the angel enjoy his food. A little guilty pleasure. Still smiling to himself, Crowley shook his head, hoping against hope that he wasn’t blushing too much. Well, at least the angel never seemed to pick up on that little secret of his.

Crowley’s mind began to drift a little. It wasn’t the first time that his imagination suggested other things that might elicit similar reactions from Aziraphale as the food he was so clearly enjoying. _No, not going there now_ , Crowley admonished himself. Certainly not with the angel sitting right in front of him. It was bad enough that Crowley felt the heat creep up to his ears. _But you held hands in the park and Aziraphale was the one to take the first step with that_ , he thought. _And that felt…wonderful. Maybe_ …Before Crowley had fully processed what he was doing – and before he could think better of it and chicken out of it – he reached out and tentatively placed his hand on the angel’s hand on the table. Aziraphale’s eyes flew open and Crowley froze, about to pull away, but then, the angel smiled at him and didn’t make any move to pull his hand away from him. So, Crowley smiled back somewhat hesitantly and left his hand where it was, covering Aziraphale’s.

When they were strolling back to the car a short while later, they were walking side by side and, once again, holding hands. _I could definitely get used to this_ , the demon mused. Once they were both seated, Crowley started the engine and pulled out into the street, heading back in the direction of the bookshop. There was still a slight smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, while Aziraphale leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “That was scrumptious”, he mumbled, more to himself than to Crowley, but he did turn to look at his friend with a warm smile.

Crowley felt the angel’s gaze and looked back at him with a slight, questioning frown, but when he saw the angel’s smile, he simply smiled back and, turning his attention back to the road ahead, he reached out to switch on the radio. _‘It’s so easy when you know the rules, it’s so easy, all you have to do is fall in love. Play the game, play the game of love…’_ , Freddie’s voice sounded through the car. Crowley’s eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses. _‘This is your life, don’t play hard to get. It’s a free world, all you have to do is fall in love…’_ For a moment, Crowley struggled and stammered. “Oh, this blessed car”, he muttered finally, visibly flustered. He didn’t even notice that Aziraphale beside him was just as flushed and kept staring ahead wide-eyed.

When the next song that came on was _‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’_ , of all things, Crowley hissed in exasperation and embarrassment and switched the radio off. “Crazy little Bentley, more like”, he grumbled. For a moment, there was awkward silence in the car. Aziraphale sighed and pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat – where he felt…something that normally certainly wasn’t in there. A sheet of paper, folded and somewhat crumpled. Frowning, he pulled it out and looked at it. It was the leaflet the deluded street preacher had practically shoved into his hand.

The angel reread the whole thing and couldn’t help but shake his head again. “At least, he could have used some spell-checking device or something like that. Seriously, I mean _…‘ye lams’_? And _…‘get a Brian’_?” Crowley chuckled. “’m afraid that’s beyond any spell-checker, Angel…” Aziraphale still shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re right. I mean…it’s not all…non-existent words. But if you take this literally, it doesn’t make the least bit of sense! Get a Brian? I’m pretty sure he meant ‘brain’, but…” The angel shook his head again, but Crowley began to laugh.

“Well…”, the demon drawled, “maybe…maybe ya need someone, anyone, named Brian to actually make sense of this load o’ poppycock.” This made the angel giggle as well. “Well, do you think we’ll have to find a Brian, then? Maybe I should ask any potential customers for their given names first, and as soon as we find someone named Brian, we’ll get the answers…Or…maybe one of those humans who helped us stop the Apocalypse was actually called Brian? We could always go to Tadfield, visit Adam and ask…” Crowley laughed at that. “At least we know that Adam’s not a Brian…”, he replied.

But Aziraphale wasn’t quite done yet. He read the rest of the headline. “Poppycock indeed. _‘Fight Santanism’_. That is…I mean, what does it even mean? Did he seriously misspell Satan as Santa?” Beside him, Crowley burst into another fit of laughter – so badly, in fact, that he pulled over and stopped the car because he simply couldn’t continue driving like this. Once the engine was turned off, Crowley all but doubled over, squeaking with laughter. Aziraphale wasn’t completely sure why exactly his friend was laughing quite so hard, but he found that the demon’s merriment was highly infectious – the angel began to giggle as well. “What…what is it?”, he finally managed to ask, still laughing.

“Ya know…unlessss…unless he’s really in for fighting Santa Claus an’ all that Christmas consumerism madness…which, I reckon, both our former bosses might approve of…hnngpfff…”, Crowley started, wheezing, but burst into laughter again before he could finish the sentence. Aziraphale was laughing as well and it took Crowley quite a few attempts to calm down enough to start talking once more without bursting into yet another fit of giggling.

“I’ve half a mind to actually troll them Downstairs with this. Send a bunch of letters meant for Santa addressed to Satan and see what he’ll do ‘bout that. Could be hilarious!”, Crowley finally explained, still grinning and chuckling, “Ya know, stuff like ‘Dear Satan, I promise I’ll always be nice, but please, please, _please_ , I want a rocking horse for Christmas! Here, have some biscuits!’ Guess that’s proper Santanism, eh, Angel?” Aziraphale began to laugh even more than before, all he managed in reply was a choked “oh dear”.

“And then that thing with the Evil One being a snake with horns? I mean, seriously, was he referring to _me?_ And…and God playing a harp, S-Sssomebody’ss sssake, sssuch madnessss!”, Crowley cackled, causing Aziraphale to have yet another fit of laughter, until the angel had to wipe the tears from his eyes and felt his cheeks and stomach cramp up. “Oh dear…oh Crowley…We’re two outright fools…This…this is precisely why I love you so much!”

Crowley’s laughter stopped abruptly and as soon as Aziraphale realised, he stopped laughing as well, his eyes going wide with shock. “Oh, good Lord…Have I just said that out loud?”, he asked, raising his hand to cover his mouth – but it was too late, the words were already out there. He turned to look at Crowley who was staring back at him. “Y-you have”, the demon confirmed flatly. Aziraphale noticed just then how tense Crowley had gone – not moving at all, probably not even breathing, ready to bolt at any moment. He had to do something, anything, to somehow salvage this awkward situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, Aziraphale, you didn't mean to say that...What now? Well, sorry for the cliffhanger, but this time, at least, no one is about to die...  
> Yay, I'm back, really back, and I've actually managed to write a few more chapters, so things will continue as before. Take care and stay safe! I hope you all had a good start into this new year!


	32. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Aziraphale accidentally confesses his love to Crowley (which, obviously, caused Crowley.exe to stop working for a moment), it's high time the two of them have a serious conversation about their feelings for each other...

“I love you”. The words were still hanging there, filling the room. It was obvious that the angel hadn’t meant to actually say them, not out loud, but there they were. For quite some time, the demon’s brain seemed to stop functioning altogether. “D-d’ya mean it?”, Crowley finally asked softly, hardly more than a whisper. Aziraphale struggled for words, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He was well aware that he was probably bright red up to the roots of his hair. “I…erm…well…I…I’m an angel…Of…of course I do…I…I’m a being of love, I…I love all of Her Creation…”, he stammered.

“’m pretty sure that’s not meant to include demons…”, Crowley objected quietly. Aziraphale sighed. Crowley was right, of course. And…it wasn’t as simple as this, anyway. The angel took a shuddering, deep breath. There was no going back now. He might as well tell Crowley the truth. After all, the demon was his best friend. He owed him an honest explanation, at least. “Alright…fine…Yes, you…you’re right. I…It’s…not just that”, the angel began to explain in a surprisingly calm and quiet voice. Underneath, he was terrified. After all, if there was one thing he didn’t want to happen, it was losing his best friend. And this…well, it could definitely cast a shadow of terrible awkwardness over their friendship.

“I’m an angel, I’m meant to…to love. However…that’s…more of an…impersonal love. We’re…not supposed to be _in_ love. With anybody. And…yes, you’re right, probably least of all with a demon. But…well…I’m afraid I am…In love, I mean. But…it’s no matter. It doesn’t change anything. Nothing has to change, it’s not a problem. All tickety-boo. I…I mean…”, Aziraphale’s voice, initially calm and quiet, began to sound more and more frenzied, despite his best efforts. But he kept talking. “I mean…I know you can’t feel the same way, I know demons cannot love. But that’s fine. Not your fault, no problem. We’re friends and I know you…you care about me, and that’s all that matters. And…and anyway, I…I know I’m not much to look at, anyway. Not exactly the most attractive to begin with, I know, and…So…so even if you were –”

But Crowley interrupted his ramblings, raising his hands: “Whoa, whoa, stop! Stop right there, Aziraphale. Hang on…Two things…” The demon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before continuing: “First: Who told you that demons cannot love?” Aziraphale stared back at him with an air of confused astonishment. “Well…that’s…common knowledge?”, he ventured. Crowley huffed. “We cannot _sense_ love. Not like _you_ can…s’pposedly. Doesn’t mean we can’t fall in love. It’s…possible. ‘s just not…meant to happen…Not recommended. Certainly not by Hell. We’re…not supposed to. After all, we could never be sure if the other feels the same way. And who in their right mind would fall in love with a demon? No one, ‘xcept maybe another demon…and even that’s unlikely. Falling in love will just end up with you being vulnerable and getting hurt. So…it’s unlikely…Discouraged. Not strictly impossible, though.”

Aziraphale was just opening his mouth to say something to that, but Crowley didn’t let him and continued: “Second thing: Who…? Why…? Why do you think you’re not attractive?” Now, Crowley was actually looking at his friend, shaking his head in disbelief and frowning. The angel stared back at him. He needed a moment to process what the demon had actually said…and he was still wondering what exactly Crowley was implying with that. But the second question now felt quite a bit like mockery to him. He laughed slightly, but there was no happiness in it. On the contrary, it sounded bitter and as if the angel was actually close to tears. “Crowley, please. I’m perfectly capable of looking into a mirror”, he replied. But the demon shook his head in confusion. “What…?”, he stammered, but Aziraphale ran out of patience at that point.

“Look. It’s perfectly obvious, really. I’m not exactly up to the standards. I’m…I’m just a…fussy, quirky, cranky, old-fashioned, boring bookworm and I…I don’t even look the part. I mean…what I’m supposed to be. Guardian of the Eastern Gate, principality, but look at me, I…I’m just…soft and…terribly out of shape…if I ever was in any shape to speak of…”, he added softly, looking down at his hands, neatly folded in his lap. Crowley stared at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide behind the dark lenses. “These aren’t your words, Angel. Who said this to you?”, he finally asked. Aziraphale looked up at him, a haunted look in his eyes, before he quickly averted his gaze once again. “As I said, I’m perfectly capable of looking into a mirror. I’m not blind…and I’m not a fool…”, he protested weakly.

“I didn’t say you were”, Crowley conceded, “but…you…you’re…Angel, for Hell’s sake, that’s simply not true! It’s distorting the truth, if anything. ‘m not a fool either! Who ssaid that?” The growing anger in the demon’s voice made Aziraphale flinch slightly. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Gabriel might have said a few things…”, he muttered. “Gabriel?! Why…? When on Earth did ya talk to that prick? And who cares for his opinions, anyway?” Aziraphale flinched again, but he found that he owed Crowley an explanation: “I…when…when I called Upstairs to talk to the Metatron…It…it was Gabriel who answered my call, initially…We…had a little talk…” “About what?!”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment. He’d pushed that dreadful conversation to the very back of his mind and had hoped never to speak of it again, least of all to Crowley. Even less so now, since he knew a bit more about the circumstances of Crowley’s Fall. But the demon was clearly demanding an explanation. With a shaky voice, but with determination, the angel finally began to speak again. “About…about…well…what I just told you. He…made it rather clear what he thinks of me. And…I’m afraid he has a point. In a way. I mean…it’s obvious…” Crowley’s glare, even behind those sunglasses, stopped him from following down that path once again. Instead, he returned to where he’d started: “Well…as I said, he told me these things and…and…he said a few things about you, too…” The demon merely quirked an eyebrow, still scowling, but it was enough to coax Aziraphale into continuing. “He…he said…that…you’d just…use me and…try to seduce me…make me believe that you lo-…like me and…then break my heart…That that was your ultimate goal, as a demon…and that you’d never genuinely –”

Crowley hissed, causing Aziraphale to stop talking immediately. It was fairly obvious that the demon was furious. He moved to restart the car, but his shaking hands were giving him trouble. “Alright, that’sss it! I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna go up there and I’ll kill that fuckwit! ’ve never actually killed an angel before…Gonna be an interesssting experience, if nothing elsse…”

Hearing that, Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide with increasing panic, until he finally managed to put a hand on Crowley’s arm. “Crowley, no! You…you can’t do that! That’s Gabriel we’re talking about! Either you’d fail and get yourself killed…or worse…or…or you’d actually succeed and they’d kill you for it! And…and remember, you said yourself, a demon killing an angel unprovoked, that would just start the War…” “Unprovoked, my arssse”, Crowley hissed through clenched teeth, but he had to agree that Aziraphale was right. He took a few deep breaths, closed his eyes for a moment, and finally sighed. “Fine”, he muttered, “Let’s just hope, for Gabriel’s sake, that, same as Hastur, he never dares to show his stupid, smug shit-face anywhere around you or me ever again…”

Aziraphale nodded and he slowly felt his friend relax. After a while, Crowley became quite aware of the angel’s hand still resting soothingly on his arm. “Did you believe him?”, the demon finally asked in a low voice, staring into space and avoiding the angel’s eyes. Aziraphale shook his head. “No…Concerning what he said about you, I didn’t. I don’t. It…didn’t make sense. I mean…all the time we spent together, all those little things you didn’t need to do and did anyway, simply for my sake, all the times you came to my rescue…you…you even risked your life for me…If you’d wanted to just… do what Gabriel suggested, why spend six thousand years on it? Why take such risks and put that much effort into it? Would have been quite a waste of time, so…no, I didn’t believe that to be true.” Crowley huffed slightly. “Yeah…’s not just that, Angel.” He sounded oddly weary.

“Ya know…I told you, not so long ago, that what Gabriel did to you was worse than whatever he did to me. And…I didn’t even know about this when I said that. What he said about _you_ , it…it’s not true, Aziraphale. You said you can look into a mirror, then _please_ , by all means, do so. Yes, you’re quirky and…cranky and fussy…sometimes infuriatingly so. But you’re _my_ kind of quirky. You’re a bookworm, yes, you’re clever! You’re intelligent, witty and smart. And old-fashioned, yes, but…that suits you…You and your books…You have something you care about. Knowledge. Curiosity. You treasure that. I’ve seen your eyes light up and shine and sparkle whenever you talk about books. Having a passion for something, well, there’s nothing boring in that. And…as for you being…out of shape…well, I beg to differ. You love food, okay, fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. You…you’re…you’re soft and warm and…and so full of light…A real, proper, true angel. You’re everything I’m not. If you’d just see…” At that point, Crowley failed to continue talking due to the lump in his throat. He blinked a few times – no, he was certainly not crying, definitely not.

Aziraphale stared at the demon for a while, hardly daring to breathe. Was this really what Crowley – Crowley, of all people – saw in him? He was rendered speechless and dimly noticed a tear running down his own cheek. For a moment, they sat in silence. Aziraphale tried once again to process everything Crowley had said. Demons _could_ love after all, according to what this demon had just told him. And…Crowley saw him like _this?_ Did that mean…? The angel hardly dared to hope for it, and yet, he needed clarity. “Does this…D-do you…do you mean t-to say…that…that you…That what I feel…f-for you…” He was well aware that he was rambling and not making much sense, but then, Crowley interrupted him with a huff. “Do you…uhm…d’you really feel…that way…about _me?_ ”, the demon asked, his voice tinged with fear, despite everything, and Aziraphale realised that he wasn’t the only one who was terribly afraid right now. “Yes…I do love you. Most ardently, in fact”, the angel confirmed quietly. What did he have to lose, after all?

Crowley sighed. “Well…’s mutual, ya know…I love you too, you idiot”, he finally managed. Aziraphale had just begun to suspect it, to hope for it, but still, hearing Crowley say it was overwhelming nevertheless. “You…you do?” Crowley just groaned. “Really, Angel? I thought it was rather obvious…” Aziraphale frowned. “No, it wasn’t! Most certainly n-…but…oh, good Lord…”, he trailed off, shaking his head. Looking at it now, it was obvious indeed – and had been for…a very long time. All those dashing rescues, all the fancy dinners, all those evenings of getting drunk together, all that time spent together for no other reason than to…well, be together…In a way, it seemed that Crowley had been courting him for centuries. And he had told the demon that he was going too fast. The angel let out a somewhat strangled laugh. “Well…I guess we’re two outright, blind fools, aren’t we?” Crowley smirked. “Guess so”, he replied softly, chuckling despite himself and shaking his head.

“Why…didn’t you know, though? I mean…you’re an angel. You’re supposed to sense this kinda stuff…You ought to have noticed. Why…didn’t you?”, Crowley asked after a moment of silence, “I…I mean…actually, I always…sorta…feared that you would, ya know? That you’d…find out…or that you…already knew anyway and…just didn’t feel the same way and…that that’s why you…never said anything about it…I mean…angel, demon…I figured it was only natural that you wouldn’t want…wouldn’t be interested in…and…and…would just indulge…f-for…for the sake of…being friends…” Crowley couldn’t quite bring himself to look at the angel, but he did feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him.

The angel hesitated, thinking about how to phrase his answer. He sighed, but then, he began to explain: “Well…I…I did sense it, I suppose. It’s just…I…It was just so…normal. It was…seemingly always there. Growing so slowly over time, I didn’t take any notice. I didn’t…really realise what it was. It…took me a while to realise what it actually is that I…feel for you. And…when I realised, it terrified me. And…that’s when I paid closer attention to what I sensed when we were…together. And yes, I did sense it then. That it was love, in fact. But…I thought…I assumed that it was…probably just my own feelings reflected off of you, back at me…Seemed like wishful thinking, to hope that it might be yours…but…I was sure it couldn’t be, so…” Aziraphale trailed off and just shrugged. He’d been so sure that demons were incapable of this that he hadn’t even dared to consider the possibility. Now, he felt rather foolish for it.

Crowley laughed softly, a melancholic, lopsided smile on his face. “Because demons aren’t supposed to love, eh?” The angel shook his head. “I’m so sorry, my dear…” “Nah, ‘s fine…But…if you don’t mind me asking…You said…it took you a while to realise…When…when did you…?”, the demon trailed off, leaving the half-finished question hanging in the air. “Fall in love with you?”, Aziraphale finished Crowley’s question. Crowley just nodded, so the angel took a deep breath and began to explain: “Well…I’m not entirely sure when it started, to be honest…I…I realised what it was when…in…in 1941, when you…saved me as well as my books in that church…”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “It took a coupla saved books to make you realise that? That’s…so you, Aziraphale…” “Well…yes…I suppose…You see… even though we hadn’t seen each other for…quite some time and…hadn’t parted on the best of terms…yet, you…you walked into a _church_ , of all places, to…to save me…and my books, which you didn’t have to do…That’s when I realised. That I was, in fact, in love with you and…that you cared about me, too, at any rate. And…as I said, it terrified me. After all, we were supposed to be enemies. Being friends was risky enough, but this? But…as I said, it…must have started way earlier…I’m not even sure when…Rome, perhaps? I…I’m afraid I’ve been terribly slow-brained with this…Anyway, it’s been…centuries, definitely. When…did you…?”

Crowley sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Centuries? Well…I’d say…millennia. I…I’m tempted to say Eden, but…maybe that would be exaggerating things a bit. But…when you told me that you gave away that sword of yours and…just talked to me and…sheltered me from the rain…Well…I was…surprised…Infatuated? Besotted? Smitten? Not quite sure when exactly that turned into…more, but…it feels like it’s always been there…Ya never needed to smite me…ya’d already done so at the very start, in…quite a different way…” “That long?”, the angel asked quietly. Crowley just nodded.

Aziraphale sighed. “All this time…all those centuries…We…we could’ve…” “Nah…’s better this way, Angel. Really, even if we’d had the chance, we couldn’t have. As you said, s’pposed to be enemies. Remember what they did to us for teaming up and stopping the Apocalypse? And that was just…us being…vaguely friends, to them. Don’t wanna imagine what they would’ve done, had we been…anything more than that…” The angel contemplated Crowley’s words for a moment, but he found himself nodding. “Yes…I’m afraid you’re right. It was risky enough as it was…The Arrangement was already such a dangerous venture. Anything more would have been way too perilous. For both of us”, he agreed quietly. “Still…now that we’re…off work…we…we could…well…”, he added, trailing off and gesturing vaguely. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure where to go from here himself, now that all this was out in the open. He’d never imagined ever confessing his feelings to Crowley, let alone finding that the demon actually returned his affections.

Crowley raised his head and looked over at Aziraphale with a strange expression. “Could what…? Our own side…?”, he asked softly, the tinge of fear returning to his voice. The angel inclined his head, but he didn’t say anything. The demon let out a shuddering breath. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He’d never expected anything like this to happen, not ever. If anything, he’d expected that he himself might one day accidentally confess and that the angel would push him away for that. For good. And somewhere deep down, he still feared something like this to happen if he made any wrong move now. It all felt…strangely unreal. “What do we do now?”, he finally muttered helplessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, a bit of a cliffhanger! But the next chapter is already rather long, so I had to make a cut here. You may guess where they're going from here...  
> Hope you still enjoy the story! Take care and stay tuned! :)


	33. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After they've finally confessed their feelings for each other, it's about time for Crowley and Aziraphale to act on that. One things soon leads to another, and while their first kiss in the Bentley unfortunately gets interrupted, there's nobody to dirsturb them in the bookshop...  
> Yes, they end up in bed - this is a little bit more direct, but I hope it's still fine with the rating. Or should I put it up to "explicit"? It's not that explicit, in my opinion, but let me know if I should...

“What do we do now”, Aziraphale heard Crowley ask, his voice surprisingly small. He looked up at the demon and noticed that Crowley was apparently staring into space and, apart from the slight shaking of his hands, he wasn’t moving at all. Was he…afraid? Still? _But then, who are you to blame him? You’ve pushed him away countless times, kept him at arm’s length, and you yourself are just as scared now as he is…and, after all, he has probably more reason to be so_ , the angel thought to himself.

He realised that it was on him now to make the first move. Crowley was waiting for his answer, Crowley wouldn’t make the first move, not this time, not after he’d run again and again into whatever boundaries Aziraphale had set over the centuries. _Not after you’ve pushed him away and told him he was going too fast and…that you didn’t even like him, you fool_ , he couldn’t help thinking. He still felt sorry for that – though, it wasn’t even a lie, technically: He didn’t ‘like’ Crowley – it was far more than that, after all. And now it was out there – he’d confessed his feelings…and discovered that they were reciprocated. And they were both free, off of Hell’s and Heaven’s leash, free to do whatever they wanted. Why not this? _If he wants that_ , he reminded himself, _he said he loves you, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he desires you, too_. But he’d never know if he didn’t ask. And Crowley was still waiting. Time to pick up whatever angelic courage he could muster.

“Would you…erm…c-could…would you like…would you, er…kiss…me? If…if you’d…” At that, Crowley turned around to stare at him. He struggled through a string of unintelligible noises, before he finally managed to say anything to what the angel had just asked. “Hngk…y-you…you’d…want that…?” Aziraphale nodded. “If _you_ want to”, the angel added softly. For a moment, Crowley kept staring at him. Then, he closed his eyes and turned to look straight ahead once more. “Could you pinch me?”, he asked, his voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper. Aziraphale frowned. “Pinch you?”, he asked in confusion. But Crowley nodded and began to explain as best he could: “Yeah, I fear I might be hallucinating…or dreaming…” But instead of a pinch, he felt the soft touch of the angel’s hand on his arm. It made him flinch slightly, but he turned his head to look at Aziraphale once again.

“You’re not dreaming. Or…if you’re dreaming, then so am I”, the angel said with a soft smile, “and…if…if you don’t want to, that’s fine…” Crowley huffed. “If I don’t…? Ngh…course I do, you…”, but he couldn’t come up with any playful insult to call Aziraphale in that moment. Instead, he made a noise somewhere between a sigh, a groan and a laugh, shook his head and moved to very slowly close the distance between them. Aziraphale’s gaze drifted to Crowley’s lips – oh, how he’d longed to do that! Kiss him, maybe even nip at that lovely, pouty bottom lip of his…And look into those beautiful, golden…! His eyes drifted up again…Oh, those stupid sunglasses!

When the angel put a soft hand on his chest and muttered something like “Crowley, wait”, the demon froze instantly. Had he done something wrong? But…Aziraphale had asked him for this, hadn’t he? Maybe the angel had reconsidered? But before panic could set in, Crowley noticed that the angel’s hand slowly rose towards his face. He was about to pull back in reflex, but stopped himself. “May I…?”, Aziraphale asked softly, his fingers almost brushing Crowley’s sunglasses, and it was only now that the demon understood. “Ngk…hng…y-yeah…sure…”, he stammered and, ever so gently, Aziraphale pulled the sunglasses off from his face, folded them and placed them neatly on the dashboard. Crowley blinked. Aziraphale read the lingering fear and the unspoken question in his serpentine eyes and gave him a small nod and a smile as encouraging as he could manage in his own current state of nervousness.

Crowley inched somewhat closer, but ultimately, he hesitated, not quite daring to actually go through with this. Could he really, really be this lucky? To actually get to kiss his angel? He was still contemplating this, when, instead, Aziraphale closed the distance and kissed him, eliciting a little noise of startled surprise from him. For the blink of an eye, Crowley tensed, eyes flying wide open, but then, he melted into the kiss with a soft hum, his shaking fingers sliding up into fluffy, blonde curls. He was dimly aware of the angel’s hands on his neck and shoulder, and oh, how good this felt! But…it was better to be careful, take things slowly and check if this…was really okay, he figured. And to make sure that neither of them simply discorporated on the spot, because Crowley himself definitely felt that he might. He was also still not quite convinced that this wasn’t some very vivid dream.

Slowly, he broke the kiss and pulled away…only to look at Aziraphale looking back at him from beneath his lashes, face flushed, lips slightly parted, eyes full of longing and utterly besotted. And oh, he felt that he might just drown in the depths of those blue-green pools, darker than normally and yet, twinkling like starlight. Like the stars Crowley had created so long ago. And infinitely more beautiful than any of them.

Aziraphale stared back at Crowley. That kiss had been…surprisingly chaste. Careful, tentative, soft, gentle. So very gentle. He hadn’t quite expected this from Crowley. And yet, there had been longing there, too, a lot of it. And now, as he was looking at the demon staring right back at him, he found himself rather overwhelmed, no matter how gentle this first kiss had been…and yet, he was yearning for more. Crowley’s eyes seemed to be almost glowing – completely yellow, no traces of white left to be seen, slit pupils dilated with desire. Aziraphale had only once seen something like this happen before – back then, due to the demon being in shock and having a rather close brush with death. But this, here and now, was something different altogether. Before he had any chance to further contemplate all that, however, Crowley pulled him close for another kiss, this time way more desperate and passionate than before.

The angel made a little yelp of surprise, but it quickly turned into a rather sensual hum and his eyes fluttered shut. It was enough to reassure Crowley and urge him on. When he tilted his head a little and brushed his tongue against Aziraphale’s lips, the angel parted them readily enough, giving him full access to his mouth. The demon didn’t need any further invitation – he greedily took what the angel was offering and deepened the kiss. And Aziraphale was more than ready to reciprocate enthusiastically – after all, he, too, had nursed his fantasies for quite some time. His soft, lusty moan was almost enough to undo Crowley completely right on the spot. Someone, that angel was quite a hedonistic bastard indeed! Not that Crowley minded. On the contrary. He soon found himself almost straddling Aziraphale and pressing him backwards against the seat and the car door, both their hands shakily, but eagerly touching and exploring each other.

There was no telling where this would have been going, since a sudden, sharp knock at the driver’s side window interrupted them rather harshly. Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes, grabbing for his sunglasses in reflex. “Oh, really? For fuck’sss sssake”, he hissed as he turned to face the driver’s side window. Once the angel had found his voice again, he gently said the demon’s name to at least somewhat mollify his reaction towards whoever had dared to interrupt them.

Crowley opened the window to the policeman peering into the car and raised his eyebrows expectantly, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “Good afternoon, officer, what can I do for you?”, he asked in a saccharine and decidedly sarcastic tone. The police officer gave him a look that was half annoyed, half incredulous. “Well, good afternoon to you too, sir. What you can do? Well, if you two love birds don’t terribly mind, I suggest you should probably go and get a room or something? This is a strict non-parking area and certainly not the right place for whatever you’re up to here.” Crowley opened his mouth to shoot back some doubtlessly cantankerous remark, but Aziraphale’s hand on his arm stopped him “Crowley…”, the angel admonished him softly, and so, he merely sighed. “Right…yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We got a bit carried away, won’t happen again…”

The policeman tilted his head, apparently trying to catch a glimpse of the angel sitting on the passenger’s side. “Obviously”, he muttered before he let his gaze drift over the car itself. “By the way, nice vintage you’re driving there, sir. May I see your driving licence, insurance and MOT?” Crowley rolled his eyes in annoyance – which, luckily, the policeman wasn’t able to see behind the sunglasses. “’s that really necessary?” But the man seemed to have made up his mind. In fact, he’d heard a few tales from some of his colleagues about some ominous vintage Bentley that was quite notorious for rather unlikely speeding and, for some reason, never got caught. Could this be it? “I’m afraid I must insist, sir”, he replied firmly.

Crowley groaned. “Fine”, he muttered, pulling the papers out from Somebody knew where and handed them over. The officer studied them for a moment and then looked back at Crowley. “Alright, Mr…Anthony Crowley. Sunglasses, sir?” Crowley just shrugged. “Sensitive eyes.” The policeman studied him rather suspiciously for a moment, but then he decided that this probably wasn’t worth starting a fuss over. And apart from this being a vintage Bentley, he had no proof for his suspicions. All he could accuse this driver of was stopping his car where he wasn’t supposed to and getting somewhat caried away with the guy beside him. He sighed and shrugged, handing the documents back. “Fine, seems to be all in order. Just…don’t do this again, will you?” Crowley nodded. “Sure. Promise”, he replied, and the police officer wasn’t quite certain if he was being mocked or not. He chose to believe in this driver’s innocence until proven guilty, though, and simply opted for a polite smile, wishing the two turtle doves a nice day before he walked away.

Crowley sighed deeply and leaned back. “Well…that was…something…”, he muttered. “I agree, rather”, the angel nodded. The demon turned to look at him. “What now? Ya know…actually, I think he had a point…The car is prob’ly not the best place…” “Back to the bookshop?”, the angel ventured. The demon grinned. “Back to the bookshop it is.” With that, he started the engine, pulled out onto the street and pushed down the gas pedal. Aziraphale found himself once again pressed into his seat, his eyes going wide, but for once, the butterflies in his stomach seemed to quite efficiently drown out his fears caused by Crowley’s breakneck speed through central London.

Crowley reached for the radio once again – only to blush immediately. This car was truly obnoxious! The old girl clearly had a mind of her own when it came to the two entities travelling with her right now. The song coming on was _‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’_. Listening to the lyrics, Aziraphale began to blush rather violently as well. When the song was over, he couldn’t stop himself from mentioning: “This one was new. I haven’t heard your car play this one before.” “Oh, she has, believe me…Just not while you’re around. Not until now, that is…Insufferable car!” Crowley chose to pointedly ignore the fact that the car radio demonstratively started to play _‘You Don’t Fool Me’_.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well…I do think your car has a point…It was…rather oddly fitting, don’t you think? As if it was meant for us, specifically. And…looking at what your car has been playing more often than not, it seems like this Bentley of yours has picked up on a few things quite a tad earlier than we have…and has been nudging us into a certain direction all the time…” Crowley frowned. “What, ya mean to say that my car ships us like some weird-ass fan-girl?” He scowled, but Aziraphale’s delighted giggles were enough to soften his brittle demeanour.

They arrived at the bookshop in record time, and yet, the sun was already beginning to set. It had been a long and rather eventful day, after all. It felt strangely awkward this time, walking up to the familiar door while casting stolen glances at each other. Aziraphale began to fumble for the keys, but couldn’t quite find them – or maybe it was simply that his hands were shaking too badly. With a frustrated huff, he miracled the door open. Crowley merely raised his eyebrows and smirked, but sauntered in before the angel. He heard Aziraphale close the door behind them and then became acutely aware of the angel’s presence right beside him. Crowley took off his sunglasses and turned to look at Aziraphale. “Right…what now? Do you…?”, he began, but then, Aziraphale gently took him by the arms and looked up at him with what was at the same time a terribly nervous and yet the most seductive gaze he’d ever seen on the angel. “Where were we?”, he asked softly.

Crowley was rendered speechless. Was the angel truly trying to tempt him, a demon (and the original tempter, at that)? And it was clearly working, too. Aziraphale got up on his tiptoes to kiss him again, and this time, Crowley reacted immediately. He pulled the angel close, changing Aziraphale’s soft and gentle move to something way more urgent and passionate. A mere moment later, the angel found himself pinned rather roughly against a bookshelf. He grunted when his back collided with the shelf and the books on it, but at the same time, he found that this was turning him on rather more than he’d care to admit. He clung to Crowley, his hands gripping the fabric of Crowley’s jacket, his own affections and desires just as desperate, eager, sloppy and urgent as the demon’s. It took him a while to realise where exactly they were – despite the fact that this was his own bookshop. But, in his defence, Crowley was rather distracting at the moment.

As soon as Aziraphale realised, however, he broke the kiss and tried to gently push Crowley off a little bit. “Mmm…Crowley…no, wait…The books”, he finally managed. Crowley frowned. “Oh, screw the books, Angel, they’ll survive!” And he tried to capture the angel’s lips in another kiss, but Aziraphale remained firm. “No! No, you don’t understand!” The angel pointed upwards. The demon looked up as well and finally understood. He groaned. “Not one of your customer traps, Aziraphale!” The angel just shrugged and gave him an apologetic and somewhat bashful smile. “Well…erm…it is, I’m afraid”, he replied, “and…while I do enjoy this very much, I…don’t really fancy being hit over the head by some second-rate third edition…and I assume, neither do you…”

Crowley chuckled, despite himself. “Right…and…I guess there are more comfortable places, anyway”, he muttered. Aziraphale smiled and gave him another one of those _looks_. Was that angel trying to discorporate him? “The bed, perhaps?”, he suggested. “Bed…”, Crowley managed to repeat rather hoarsely. This was…going fast…Fast… _You go too fast for me, Crowley_. The demon shook his head. “Angel…uhm…ngh…are...are you sure you really want this? ‘m not going too fast for you?” Aziraphale’s face fell. “Oh…I really hurt you with that, didn’t I? Crowley, I’m so sorry…I…No, you’re not going too fast. Not at all…Unless you’d rather take things more slowly…But…if…if you want to, as well, well…I guess we’ve been waiting and pining rather long enough.” “Six millennia”, the demon muttered. Aziraphale just smiled and nodded, gently running his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Crowley sighed and, closing his eyes for a moment, he leaned his forehead against the angel’s. “Bed it is, then”, he confirmed, capturing the angel’s lips in another kiss.

They weren’t quite sure afterwards how they managed to make it upstairs and into the bedroom, fumbling and kissing and stumbling as they were. On the whole way up, pieces of clothing were dropped here and there, both of them way too eager to wait any longer and tugging at each other’s clothes impatiently. Crowley had half a mind to just miracle them away, but then again, there was certainly something to be said for going through the active process of undressing someone – and getting undressed. Normally, Aziraphale would never have allowed any of his clothes to be treated like this: More or less torn off and dropped to the floor in messy, rumpled piles. But right now, he found that he didn’t care at all, not this time.

Aziraphale was tugging at Crowley’s shirt and finally managed to get his hands underneath it. How long had he longed for this? Fantasised about it? But here he was, holding the demon close, his hands finally caressing skin. Crowley gasped slightly and the angel took this opportunity to start a trail of kisses along his jaw and down his throat, enticing a small whine from the demon. Crowley was still pulling at Aziraphale’s shirt, and when he finally managed to get a hand beneath it, he discovered yet another layer. Somewhat frustrated, he made a noise somewhere between a huff and a growl. “You’re definitely wearing too many clothes, Angel…”, he muttered, which caused Aziraphale to chuckle.

“Well, and I keep asking myself how you manage to squeeze yourself into those infernally tight jeans of yours”, the angel retorted. Crowley couldn’t help laughing. “Well, I just miracle them on usually, ya know”, he explained with a smirk – but then, something else occurred to him: The angel seemed to know quite well what he was doing…but what if he wasn’t, really? It was definitely better to make sure. Crowley frowned. “Aziraphale…’f you don’t mind…Have you done this before?” The angel looked up at him, blushing visibly, even in the dim twilight of the bedroom. “Erm…well…yes, I have, actually. I…It’s just…been a while, I’m afraid…Might be out of practice…But yes, I’ve…tried it a few times…”

Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Have you now? You naughty angel…I doubt angels are s’pposed to do that…” “Well…probably not. But…I tried food and I liked it, so…I figured…well…to be perfectly honest, I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. And…it was quite enjoyable…It’s just…when…when I realised that there was really only one being I…truly wanted to do this with, and that that was…the one being I could never have, it…it lost quite a bit of its flavour…”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed and trying to process what the angel had just confessed. “I…I see…”, he finally managed. “Well, you see…it was…always you, I guess…”, Aziraphale admitted softly, “so…yes, it was…enjoyable, but…there was always something…missing, in a way…” He looked away, well aware of the blush on his face, when he heard Crowley chuckle and looked back at the demon. “You hedonistic bastard, you never even told me”, Crowley teased him. But Aziraphale was having none of that. “Well, what about you? Have you…? Done this before?”

The demon seemed somewhat taken aback at this. “Uh…well…Course I have. Demon, ya know? What d’ya expect? One of the easier ways to tempt and acquire some souls for Hell. Done that a coupla times. Or…for fun, more or less. ‘s just…well…as you said…it was…never really with the one I actually wanted. The one I couldn’t have. Certain angel, ya know…Currently runs a bookshop in Soho…” He felt somewhat self-conscious, confessing this, and he knew that he was blushing just as badly as the angel, but Aziraphale just smiled at him. “Well, that’s alright, I guess…I just…hope I won’t be a boring disappointment…” Crowley’s eyes grew wide at that. “Wot? Nonsense! I don’t think ya ever could”, he objected, caressing the angel’s hair before leaning in for another kiss.

Since Aziraphale was soon back to pulling at his shirt, Crowley just snapped his fingers and miracled if off. “You cheat”, the angel muttered and he felt the demon grin against his lips. Well, he certainly wasn’t one to complain, not when his hands now had easy access to…a lot more of Crowley, no longer obstructed by any layers of clothing. Finally, he could let his hands roam freely over the demon’s lean body, caress him, leave a trail of fluttering kisses and make him shiver and sigh ever so softly.

Meanwhile, Crowley began to tug at Aziraphale’s own shirt once again, while, at the same time, he started nuzzling the soft curls behind the angel’s ears, adding in a playful bite to his ear. “You really want these off?”, Aziraphale finally managed between a few giggles – Crowley was tickling his ear rather terribly. “I’m afraid I musst inssisst, Angel”, he heard the slightly hissy answer. And right now, he was beyond bothering – if Crowley had used magic for that one, he might as well do the same. His decision made, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the next thing he became acutely aware of were Crowley’s hands on his bare torso and he found himself gasping and then softly moaning with pleasure.

Aziraphale’s own hands were travelling up the demon’s back, gently running over his shoulder blades. Crowley whimpered and pulled away ever so slightly. “Angel…prob’ly not a good idea, doing thisss…” “Why not?” “Ugh…well…ngk…if ya wanna end up with like…twenty feet of wingspan in here…?” Aziraphale considered this for a moment, but then he just smiled. “Actually, why not? I wouldn’t mind and there’s room enough…I think I’d quite like that, in fact…and…if you’d like, I could materialise my wings as well…Never tried that before…” Crowley raised his eyebrows at that. “With wings out? Well…neither have I…But…if…if ya want to…” The angel just smiled. _Angelically_ , Crowley thought. But then, he just shrugged and materialised his wings, stretching them a little – as much as was possible in the confines of the room. Aziraphale did the same and sighed, sounding almost relieved. The white feathers shimmered softly in the twilight of the room, while Crowley’s ebony ones seemed like dark shadows.

Aziraphale began to run his fingers gently through the silky black plumage, earning him another soft sigh from the demon. But…Crowley was somewhat hesitant to actually carry on with this. “Uhm…Angel…I…uh…There’s…maybe something you should know…”, he finally started hesitantly. Aziraphale slowed his caresses and looked up at him questioningly. “I…uhm…ngk…ya know, there…might be sssome thingss…partss of…my nature…demonic nature that I…might not be able to…to hide or…control fully if I…when I…lose control”, he finished weakly, “Thought ya should know…what you’re in for…”

Aziraphale frowned. “What…parts are you talking about, exactly?” Crowley sighed and shrugged, somewhat helplessly. “Well…fangs…claws…scales…stuff like that. Tends to…scare people off. Unless they’re into that kinda stuff…So…unless I…try hard enough to make sure they don’t notice anything…weird, well…” Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose up, but then he smiled fondly. “Crowley. I know who and what you are. It’s fine. I’m an angel, that’s…not exactly like the usual human, either.”

The demon sighed, visibly relieved. “Right”, he muttered and allowed the angel to pull him in for another kiss. After a moment, Aziraphale broke the kiss and looked at him. “Crowley, dear…about what you just told me…may I ask a favour? Don’t hold back, please…” “Ngk”, was all Crowley could manage, but he nodded and then simply bent down to resume kissing the angel. He felt Aziraphale’s hands travel down to his hips, fingers hooking into his jeans, and he began to chuckle. “My, aren’t we eager…”, he muttered and, with a smirk, he pulled Aziraphale even closer, cheekily squeezing the angel’s buttocks and making him yelp slightly.

They were taking their time – almost the whole night, as it was. And they were thorough, but after all, they’d had a couple of millennia to catch up on. Crowley hadn’t lied about those…bits of demonic nature coming through, but Aziraphale found himself rather fascinated by that – and, in fact, he found himself quite considerably turned on by it all. Feeling the soft ripple of scales across the demon’s skin, the gentle scratch of fingernails turned into sharp claws, a snake’s fangs and forked tongue grazing his own skin…it was all rather alluring. Take that together with the gentle, soft brush of feathers against feathers, raven black mingling with pearly white, and the angel found that he was almost undone by that already. And he was somewhat surprised by how careful and attentive Crowley was, despite all the passion he’d obviously bottled up for centuries, while Aziraphale found himself to be the impatient one who couldn’t wait any longer, the one who wanted to go faster. He clung to Crowley, gasping, touching, tugging at black feathers and strands of red hair.

Crowley, on the other hand, was very much enjoying seeing the angel so utterly debauched, moaning and sighing and writhing beneath him in pleasure, arms and legs wrapped tightly around his slender frame, and practically begging for more. He was…simply beautiful. So very beautiful. This was definitely better than whatever Crowley had imagined whenever he’d watched the angel eat something. Quite in the middle of it all, however, as Aziraphale was just on the very brink of going over the edge completely, the demon suddenly stopped short. The angel opened his eyes and stared up at him in confusion, noticing that Crowley was staring back at him with the same air of bewilderment – and with unveiled concern. “Angel…you alright? Y-you’re…you’re glowing…”

Aziraphale’s eyes flew wide open. It was true, he was, in fact, glowing. He blushed furiously. “Oh…I…erm…I…This has never happened before…I…sorry…Is…is this a problem? I…I’m afraid it’s rather beyond my control…I…guess this must be…because I love you…” Crowley raised his eyebrows at that, staring at the angel, utterly baffled. “Ngk…N-nah…not…not a problem…That…that’sss…really ssstupid”, he finally muttered, voice cracking slightly, and Aziraphale was quite certain that the demon was suddenly rather close to tears, and indeed, his eyes were shining with them. To spare Crowley any embarrassment, the angel simply pulled him down and kissed him.

Afterwards, when both of them were blissfully exhausted, the demon simply snuggled up against the angel, in a very similar fashion to the way he’d done once before, when Aziraphale had offered to comfort him after his nightmare. He wrapped an arm and a leg around the angel, placed his head on Aziraphale’s chest and covered them with his left wing, while the angel wrapped his left arm and wing around his demon and began to gently run his fingers along Crowley’s side and then through the smooth, silky feathers of the wing covering him like a blanket. Crowley sighed contentedly and the angel smiled at that. “You like this, don’t you? I remember that…”, he said. “Mmmh…’s nice, cuddling afterwards…Rarely ever got to do that”, the demon mumbled, sounding already somewhat drowsy with sleep. Aziraphale frowned. “Whyever not? I’d say this is an essential part of it!”

This seemed to stir Crowley a little – at least, he shifted slightly and sounded somewhat more awake when he replied. “Well…’m a demon…If it didn’t accidentally end with…humans screaming, throwing a fit and running or throwing me out or something like that, it was mostly rather…‘take what you want and leave’, ya know?” “Oh…oh, my dear…I…I’m so sorry…”, Aziraphale started, but Crowley waved it off. “Nah, ‘s fine. After all, I didn’t really want to do this with anyone else anyway…And…well, now we can do this as often as we like…I hope…?” Crowley seemed just a little insecure when he asked this, but he continued to gently run his fingertips over the angel’s chest.

Aziraphale hurried to reassure him: “Oh…of course, however often you like. We could cuddle every night, you know…” Crowley snorted. “Actually, I should feel ashamed of myself…’m a demon, demons don’t cuddle…But I trust you to keep my lil secret…Got a reputation to think of, after all…” He sounded rather self-ironically amused. Aziraphale just chuckled and began once again to caress Crowley’s wing, eliciting another blissful sigh from the demon. He felt the wing move slightly under his fingertips, stretching the feathers out to give him better access. The angel smiled fondly. If he’d ever have needed proof that this demon trusted him, this was it.

Aziraphale could tell easily enough when Crowley had finally fallen asleep in his arm, all slack and heavy and with the occasional soft hiss, and to Aziraphale’s surprise, the blissful exhaustion after their nightly activities made the angel himself feel rather sleepy as well. He didn’t even try to fight it – instead, he happily gave in to the pleasant heaviness and soon nodded off as well, drifting off into quite a few hours of peaceful, deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, now we're finally there, after six millennia of pining...It's not quite the end of the story yet, and there are still some things left to be done and said, but well...  
> This was a bit longer, but I had no idea if and how and where to split this - and I guess it would have been rather mean to do so...Hope you enjoy! Stay safe!


	34. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title pretty much says it all:  
> After a doubtlessly rather passionate night, both angel and demon are somewhat surprised when they wake up the next morning and realise that the previous night hasn't been a dream. Apart from a short discussion about the way the other angels have treated Aziraphale, it's a peaceful and rather fluffy morning. Along the way, Aziraphale also realises that he isn't the only one with insecurities...

The first thing Aziraphale became aware of was that he was lying on his back on something rather soft and comfortable. His bed? Apparently, he’d been…sleeping. Which was unusual and still tended to leave him somewhat disoriented at first. He noticed that he had his wings out, his right wing apparently drooping off the side of the bed and halfway stretched out across the floor, his left wing…somewhat numb? There was something heavy lying on it, as it seemed. And…something feathery was covering him like a blanket. He sighed and it was only now that his sleep-addled mind noticed the all-too familiar demonic presence right beside him, so familiar that its absence would probably have been more noticeable than its presence. And…apparently, he wasn’t wearing anything either, as it felt. His mind stopped short and did a double take. _Wait, what?_

It took his still sleepy brain another moment to actually recall everything that had happened the day before and the previous night, but when it finally did, Aziraphale’s eyes flew open. This was real, this hadn’t been a dream! The angel began to smile beatifically. The early morning sun was flooding the room and the first thing he saw when he looked down on himself were the gleaming black feathers covering him. They were positively iridescent in the sunlight, the raven black shimmering in a myriad of shades ranging from green to blue to purple to indigo and silver. _Absolutely beautiful_ , Aziraphale thought, _and as always impeccably well groomed_. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling – even in his sleep, Crowley had kept his wing thrown over him in a gesture that was as possessive as it was protective. And now that Aziraphale was paying closer attention, he also noticed the hand resting on his belly beneath the wing.

Still smiling, the angel tried to turn around a little. He couldn’t move a lot, with the demon lying on his left wing like that, but he managed to shift a little, so that he could at least halfway turn to his left side and let his gaze follow the lines of the black wing back to the demon it belonged to. Crowley was obviously still sleeping soundly. But while he’d fallen asleep in the angel’s arm, his head now rested on the pillow. Aziraphale kept watching him for a while. The light of the morning sun set his rather dishevelled hair aflame, fiery strands sticking out in weird ways, and, for once, his usually so very expressive face was completely relaxed. _More peaceful than I’ve ever seen him, I think_ , Aziraphale mused.

In the warm light flooding the room and with their faces mere inches apart, the angel noticed quite a number of freckles softly dusting the demon’s face. ‘Angels’ kisses’, some people called them, Aziraphale remembered. Well, if he was to have any say in this, he’d gladly kiss each and every single freckle he could find on Crowley’s face…and wherever else. He smiled again and, almost automatically, his hand began to gently caress the smooth, black feathers. _Quite like silk_ , he thought to himself.

Aziraphale was back to looking at the feathers and the way they seemed to briefly turn into something rather more like scales at the base of the wing, right before changing into smooth skin. He was still slowly caressing the feathers when he felt the wing shift ever so slightly and heard a little sigh from Crowley. Looking up at the demon’s face again, Aziraphale noticed that Crowley was still slumbering, but now there was a soft smile on his face. The angel smiled back. It was such a peaceful picture, just contented, perfect, relaxed happiness, with not a care in the world, and Aziraphale wondered just then if he was catching a glimpse of the angel Crowley had once been.

That was something Aziraphale occasionally still had to wrap his head around: Archangel. At least formerly. With this current, very new situation, the angel began to wonder once more how different things would have been if Crowley hadn’t Fallen. For some reason, Aziraphale wasn’t quite so sure that they’d have ended up here, like this, if Crowley had actually been his boss, even if they’d probably have become friends anyway. But somehow, it seemed quite essential for all of this that they’d both started out on Earth and on their own – and, as it was, officially on opposite sides. That they’d both taken a liking to Earth…and to each other, despite everything…that they’d started thinking for themselves, questioning their superiors and their sides, to ultimately meet in the middle. After all, you didn’t live among humans for millennia without picking up on a few things – free will, friendship, relationships…to love someone…to find your own way. Make your own side. Had they both remained up in Heaven, as angels, on the same side, but with very different ranks, things probably would have been quite different indeed.

With a soft chuckle, the angel shrugged it off and continued running his fingers through the feathers, until Crowley grunted, frowned a bit and began to shift, before he finally managed to slowly open one eye, then the other, blinking slowly. “Morn’n’, ‘ngel…”, he slurred sleepily. Aziraphale raised his brows and looked at him. “Oh, sorry, I woke you up…Good morning, my dear…Did you sleep well?” Crowley just closed his eyes and hummed in confirmation. Aziraphale half expected him to fall asleep again, but a moment later, he opened his eyes again, blinked a few more times and then he began to frown. “You’re real…thisss ’ss real…”, he muttered, almost in shock. Aziraphale giggled softly. “Yes, it is…To be fair, my dear, I…had quite a similar reaction when I woke up…” Crowley simply kept looking at the angel for quite some time. Finally, a lopsided smirk appeared on his face. “Yeah, kinda feelss like I’m ssstill dreaming”, he muttered, “’d you sssleep well?”

Aziraphale giggled. “Oh yes, I did, rather…That was…well…I very much enjoyed last night…” “Mmmh, yeah, me too…Never thought I’d ever get to…nglg…anyway, we should repeat that sometime…” The angel smiled. “Oh, yes, by all means! I…I definitely hope so…if…if you want to…” Crowley chuckled. “If I want to? Sure want to! I mean…’s quite something different, doing this with…the one who truly matters…” Aziraphale reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from the demon’s face, his smile growing even warmer. For a moment, they lay in silence, simply looking at each other, until Crowley realised something. “Oh! Sorry! ‘m lying on your wing…” With a frown, he half sat up, so the angel could finally free his wing. “Oh, it’s fine, it’s just a tad numb, no matter!”, Aziraphale hurried to reassure the demon, but he did sit up, too, and moved the wing a little, before pulling it back in and folding it neatly. Crowley chuckled, but he added another “sorry”, which the angel just waved off with a bright smile.

They settled back down on the pillows, facing each other, and for quite a while, neither said anything – they just kept smiling at each other, both blushing a little and feeling like the supernatural equivalents of embarrassed, besotted teenagers. Finally, Crowley moved to lean on his elbow and, cocking his head slightly, he let his gaze wander over the slopes and curves of the body of the angel in front of him. “Like what you see?”, Aziraphale asked and the slightly fearful edge to his voice was undeniable. “Course I do. A lot, in fact. Don’t let that twat Gabriel get to you, Aziraphale, you’re perfect! A perfect angel! And if ya still doubt that, I might just have to go, after all, and at least punch your former boss in the face.”

This caused Aziraphale to actually laugh a little, even though he definitely didn’t want Crowley to go anywhere near Gabriel. “Well…he hasn’t been the only one who’s…not exactly been too kind to me, but all that other stuff I could handle…” “Other stuff?”, Crowley asked warily. The angel shrugged. “Well…when I refused to fight at ‘Armageddidn’t’, the quartermaster called me pathetic – I could handle that, I mean, if there was anything pathetic there, it was probably his shouting…Uriel called me ridiculous…Naturally, she was…rather angry with me, I assume. Well, to be perfectly honest, I…felt rather panicky when they cornered me, back then, Uriel, Michael and Sandalphon…to threaten me…but…that was all because of the world ending and… I didn’t know what they’d do to me…and…well, Sandalphon punched me, then, but apart from that, I don’t really care what Uriel called me…I mean, it’s understandable: They wanted to start Armageddon and I was standing in their way, sort of.”

During the angel’s recount, Crowley’s face had darkened considerably, but now he erupted. “Sssandalphon?! Punched you? H-…Wh-…ngk…what wasss that idiot doing there, anyway? I thought he wass Gabriel’ss little pet…” “Well…he’s always with Gabriel and the others…Uriel and Michael, I mean…Generally assuming an air of importance…like the rest of them…” Crowley huffed. “He wasn’t even a proper archangel to begin with”, he sneered. “Well…one could say that he…has stepped in after…after the War…Sort of…got promoted to a higher position than he was originally created to have…As was the case with quite a few others…”, Aziraphale explained quietly. “Yeah, and obviously, he abused his new position, self-important wanker. Like a lap dog, always trying to please his buddy, Gabriel”, the demon grumbled angrily. He huffed again and shook his head, muttering “punched you…wish I’d known…” under his breath, thinking back to the moment when he’d taken Aziraphale’s place for their trials and actually spit Hellfire at Gabriel, Uriel and Sandalphon. He might have wanted to aim a bit better that day…

Aziraphale watched Crowley with concern. “Crowley…it’s alright. Please. Don’t do anything foolish, I beg you. We’re finally free – let those things rest. All I wanted to say was that Gabriel wasn’t the only one, even though that…chat with him was…probably the most unsettling conversation I’ve ever had with a superior…But…please. Let’s just forget about this…” He reached out and placed a soft, calming hand on the demon’s chest. Crowley let out a heavy sigh. “Right…fine. Just seems my list of angels that shouldn’t ever dare to show their face anywhere near us is just growing longer…” Aziraphale gave him a warm smile. “I…guess the same might be true for a couple of angels and demons that I should maybe put on my list? I’d assume, Gabriel and Hastur have made it on both our lists…”

This actually made Crowley chuckle. “Seems like it…Unlucky bastards…But…I meant what I said, Angel. They’ve been treating you like shit for aeons. Literally. Don’t let it get to you, you’re…wonderful. Perfect. A proper angel, in every way. You’re better than all of them taken together. And you’re…you look it, too, you know? I wouldn’t change a single hair on your head. You…you take my breath away, Angel…Always have. Someone, I’m sounding like a soppy idiot…” But Aziraphale smiled at him. “Oh, that’s quite alright, my dear…And…I’m glad you think so, even now, in broad daylight. I mean…I was a bit afraid that I wouldn’t be…well…quite enough for…well…someone like you…”

Crowley frowned, obviously utterly confused and even somewhat offended. “What d’ya mean, ‘someone like me’…? Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean –” But Aziraphale was quick to protest: “Oh! No, that’s not what I meant! I mean…you…Surely, you must realise you’re…quite fetching, you know? Dashing, handsome…” Crowley raised both eyebrows, staring at the angel open-mouthed, and if at all possible, he seemed even more confused now. “Handsome? Me? Uh…well…hng…I…guess my face is quite alright, I s’ppose…Would be, if it weren’t for the eyes, that is…but…apart from that? I…I mean…I’m all…lanky and scrawny…snake-like, even in this shape…and all edges and angles, wispy and bony…Not that much to look at…”

Aziraphale stared back at him in astonishment. “I beg your pardon? You can’t be serious, Crowley! You…you’re always so…tempting and alluring. I mean…have you seen yourself walk? And…you’re very handsome indeed. Lithe and graceful…well, unless you’re drunk, that is…and yes, granted, you seem to be simply incapable of sitting in a normal way, but…that’s quite adorable. You’re…snake-like, yes, in the best of ways. And…I do love your eyes. I do, they’re absolutely stunning and fascinating…Like molten gold, you know”, the angel insisted when he saw the demon’s somewhat sour expression, “and if you’re telling me I should take a look in the mirror and reconsider, well, then I guess it seems that the same very much applies to you, too.”

For a moment, Crowley just kept on staring at Aziraphale, but then he laughed softly and slightly shook his head. Aziraphale smiled somewhat shyly, noticing that the demon was blushing. “’s that so? Well…then, it seems, we’ve both found something we like to look at, eh, Angel?”, Crowley mused, as he settled back down on the pillow. “It seems quite like it. And I guess that’s…rather perfect, then”, Aziraphale replied, and while Crowley reached out to bury his fingers in the soft, blonde curls that framed the angel’s head like a halo, shining in the sunlight, Aziraphale stretched out his right wing to cover the demon, his feathers softly brushing against the feathers of Crowley’s wing that was still casually draped halfway over the angel’s body. It caused a pleasant shiver to run through the demon. Apart from this short discussion of other angels, this was certainly a way to wake up.

For a while, they remained silent, but then something occurred to Aziraphale. “You know, Crowley…I…erm…if…if you’d want that, I could also…change. I mean, we’re free to make whatever effort we want, so…if you’d prefer, I could…you know, make another…Create something else…” He was blushing, but after all, he really, really didn’t want to risk boring the demon by being too…monotonous. Crowley, however, seemed to be somewhat surprised. “D’ya want that? I mean…you could, of course, whatever ya like…I don’t mind. And… well, we have time…all the time in the world, I hope…so yeah, we could definitely try a few things, eventually…But…actually, I think you’re quite perfect. No need to change anything. Unless you want to…Do you?” The angel laughed softly and shook his head, smiling in relief and muttering something like “not necessarily, right now”.

Aziraphale’s words got the demon wondering, though, and he began to frown. “Angel…uh…d’ya want _me_ to change? I mean… You always pretty much seemed the same, but… I’ve done it a coupla times, after all…Changed in various ways, me…I…I mean…I’m quite happy with this, right now, but…I don’t mind…” But the angel just chuckled and shook his head again. “No…unless you want to, that is. I just…didn’t want to bore you, you know? I mean…you always seemed somewhat more…versatile than me…in every way…But…as you said, we have all the time in the world, so…But…but for now…well, if you ask _me_ , you don’t have to change anything. Even though…well, by the way…over the last few…well, centuries, I suppose, there was actually one lady – only one – that I did feel rather attracted to and fascinated by in this way…Rather charming and alluring, she was, in fact…Alarmingly so. She was a nanny, you know? Went by the name of ‘Ashtoreth’…”

Crowley had well noticed the flare of jealousy rising up within him, but when he finally heard _who_ that woman had been, he couldn’t help laughing. Aziraphale smiled warmly and reached out to run his fingers through Crowley’s hair and then softly caress his cheek, letting the demon lean into the touch. “You see…as I said, it’s always been you…And…whatever effort you make, whatever appearance or gender or whatever you choose, it doesn’t matter to me, because I love _you_ , you see? It doesn’t change anything about that.” Crowley opened his mouth to reply, but struggled to come up with any properly formed words for quite some time. “Sssame…”, he finally managed somewhat hoarsely, “and don’t ya ever dare to sssuggesst again that you might bore me…You won’t, Angel. Not ever.”

Aziraphale smiled happily and Crowley felt the angel’s hand travel to the back of his head before Aziraphale gently pulled him in for a kiss. When he pulled back a little later, Aziraphale noticed the smirk on Crowley’s face. _Serpent_ , he thought – and it was then that he remembered something. “Erm…Crowley…You know…there might actually be something I’d…like to do, though…”, he wasn’t quite sure how to go about this, but the demon’s expectant face encouraged him to keep talking, “You…erm…you said that there were some things that you…couldn’t quite control when you…well…lose yourself, you know…” “Uh…yeah…?”, Crowley replied, not quite sure where the angel was getting with this. But then, Aziraphale continued: “But…you can also…do that consciously, right? I mean…I’ve seen you grow fangs and claws on purpose, for…for defensive reasons and the like…”

The demon frowned a little, still somewhat confused. “Uh…well…yeah, sure I can. ‘s just…ya know…I can grow fangs if I want to, just like I can materialise my wings or…turn into a serpent…Course I can do that consciously. Fangs, claws, whatever. I just…might not be able to _not_ do that when I’m right in the throes of passion. ‘s also why I can’t…really control that stupid hiss when I’m upset. Only thing I can do almost nothing about are my eyes. I…can manage to at least give them some sort of a more human iris, but…that’s about it…I tried, believe me. At least…the rest I can handle, usually…As I said, unless it’s…well, specific situations…”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, that’s what I thought…Well…if…if I may ask…What about your tongue? It sort of…went all snake-like last night…” Crowley blushed terribly at that and began to splutter, so the angel hurried on: “I mean…could you…do that now as well?” “Uh…hnglpf…I…in…in theory…yeah…” “Would you? And…kiss me with that? I…I thought that felt rather…fascinating…I…must admit, I quite liked that…” By now, Aziraphale, too, was blushing.

For a moment, Crowley stared at him. “Forked tongue…you…liked that…? Uh…y-…sure…fine…if…if ya want to…Just…speaking’s a bit hard with that, so…” But the angel just grinned. “Well, I’m not asking you to talk, my dear…”, he said. _Bastard_ , Crowley thought, _what an utter bastard!_ But he just shrugged, let his tongue take on its more serpentine shape and flicked it out quite in reflex to taste the air. Aziraphale moved to lean over him and cocked his head ever so slightly, still smiling. “You know, I bet you can do some rather weird things with that…”, he said. “Posssssibly”, the demon replied with a smirk and wrapped his arms around him. The angel leaned down for a kiss that quickly became rather passionate.

Suddenly, however, Aziraphale’s eyes flew open and he broke the kiss, startled. “Crowley! The…the plants! We forgot the plants! They’re all still in the car!” Initially, the angel’s sudden jolt had rather alarmed Crowley, but now he began to laugh heartily. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine”, he slurred and pulled Aziraphale back down. “You’re sure?”, the angel asked, still somewhat worried, but the demon just smiled. He’d clean forgotten about the plants, but they certainly wouldn’t dare to wilt or anything. “Promissse…”, he replied and at that, Aziraphale allowed himself to be pulled into another kiss. It didn’t take long and the angel moaned softly and deepened the kiss. That forked tongue caressing his own on both sides was really most enticing, as were those slender, nimble fingers roaming over his wings and his body. They really fit together just perfectly. And now that they’d started this, or rather, restarted it, they found that they couldn’t quite keep their hands off each other. With the angel now being reassured about the plants, it was highly unlikely that they’d leave the bed anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many different (and contradictory) accounts of how many archangels there are and what their names are, so my personal head canon is that Heaven has undergone some restructuring after the Fall. And since, at least in this story, a few of the original archangels Fell, some others got "promoted" to replace them, Sandalphon being one of those. It also fits, in my mind, if Sandalphon is an upstart of sorts, that he's perhaps somewhat overzealous and extreme (due to actual insecurity, perhaps), trying to prove himself (with stuff like Sodom and Gomorrah or punching Aziraphale).


	35. Nothing Has Changed? Everything Has Changed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finally confessing their feelings for each other, Crowley practically moves in with Aziraphale. It turns out that living together is something new and yet, nothing new at all...

In practically no time, Crowley all but moved in with the angel. It was almost inconspicuous, mostly because the demon had spent so much of his time at the bookshop already, anyway. But now, he hardly ever returned to his Mayfair flat at all. And over time, more and more of his stuff ended up at Aziraphale’s place: A multitude of plants, clothes, some trinkets, pieces of art and souvenirs he’d collected over the centuries, the coffee machine, the flatscreen…eventually, even the throne turned up in the bookshop, and while it did require quite a few miracles to make room for everything (and get it to the bookshop in the first place), neither demon nor angel bothered to mention it.

They settled surprisingly easily into living together – probably due to the fact that it was nothing new for the demon to hang around at the bookshop for lengthy periods of time anyway. There were just some new additions to something that had been almost somewhat of a routine already. New was that things had become decidedly more domestic, that they were now sharing a bed and that they no longer shied away from showing their affection to each other – casual touches, a kiss here and there, a soft caress.

As for the bed, most nights, Aziraphale would actually lie awake most of the time and read, with Crowley snuggled up against him. That was, unless the angel ended up falling asleep after all while they were cuddling or spooning…or he watched the demon sleep – a new favourite nightly pastime of his. But very frequently, he would read. Since reading was how Aziraphale had already spent most of his nights before, anyway, it was only the place and manner that had changed. And well, then, of course, there was the obvious fact that they’d turned from best friends to lovers, which meant that Aziraphale had somewhat less time of each night left for reading than before…but he found that he didn’t mind in the least.

Right now, however, the angel was downstairs in the bookshop, reorganising his books – it was a rather bleak and rainy day, after all, and neither he nor Crowley were in any mood to venture outside. Aziraphale had been busying himself for quite some time, when he figured that he’d done enough reorganisation to confuse any potential returning customers, and so he called out to Crowley. To his confusion, he didn’t get a reply. Frowning, he went into the backroom and when his gaze landed on the sofa, his frown turned into a fond smile: The demon had fallen asleep, stretched out on the sofa. Aziraphale chuckled softly, leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the snake sigil next to Crowley’s ear. The demon stirred a little, but he didn’t wake up. It seemed that, while angels and demons didn’t strictly need any sleep (or food, for that matter), their corporations could get quite used to it and began to crave and demand it. _Well, he didn’t get that much sleep last night, poor boy_ , the angel thought with a grin. With another fond glance at his best friend and lover, he turned to make a little detour to the flat upstairs – after all, he didn’t want Crowley to get cold.

When Crowley awoke from his nap some time later, the first thing he noticed was that he was pleasantly warm and that something seemed to be covering him. The second thing he became aware of was a pattering sound somewhere. With a little sigh, he opened his eyes and looked around. The pattering seemed to come from the rather heavy rain hitting the windows…and the thing that was covering him so comfortably was…a warm woollen blanket. Tartan pattern. The angel’s personal tartan, of course.

The demon sat up and rolled his eyes, but then, he began to chuckle softly. He realised just then what exactly Aziraphale was doing here, what he’d been doing for quite some time – decades, in fact. A thermos, a bike rack, the collar of a jacket…and now a blanket. The angel was leaving his tartan everywhere on Crowley’s stuff and on things he gave to Crowley. And while Aziraphale most certainly didn’t belong to any Scottish clan, still, if traditions were anything to go by, this was a pretty clear statement. It was the angel’s personal pattern – and doing everything short of stamping it all over Crowley’s stuff and Crowley himself equalled the angel unmistakably signalling to whoever cared to actually pay attention that this demon was his. Crowley had just never really interpreted it like this…and he began to wonder if Aziraphale did this consciously (he was a bit of a bastard, after all) or if, perhaps more likely, the angel wasn’t even really aware of it. Or had only become aware of it recently.

Crowley shook his head, still smiling, and got up. It was now that he realised that the pattering sounds he was hearing weren’t only caused by the rain: There was another, underlaying noise there. He began to follow that noise and soon found that it was caused by Aziraphale. The angel was sitting in front of his positively ancient computer, typing away on the keyboard quite furiously. Crowley cocked his head and stalked closer. Was Aziraphale doing his taxes? It didn’t really look like it if Crowley was being honest with himself. There seemed to be something else going on, with Aziraphale putting on an attitude like that.

With a smirk, Crowley sidled up to the angel until he could put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. The angel let out a startled yelp and jumped quite a bit, which, in turn, made the demon chuckle in amusement. “Crowley, you fiend!”, Aziraphale complained, putting on the sternest voice he could muster, but the demon just rested his head on his hand that was still holding onto the angel’s shoulder and tried to take a better peek at the screen. “Whatcha doin’ there, Angel? Doesn’t look like your taxes…” The angel huffed. “Oh, I’ve long taken care of those, silly. No, this is…well…” “Looks like…an internet forum…?”, Crowley interrupted him. Aziraphale nodded: “Well…yes, it is, actually.” “Didn’t think you’d even know what that is…”

This caused Aziraphale to actually roll his eyes. “Really, Crowley! I may be somewhat old-fashioned, but I haven’t lived under a rock the last few decades! I do know how to navigate the world wide web. In fact, I’ve used it countless times to acquire some very rare books.” “Well, excuse me, please, but seeing that ya still have this positively Neolithic computer and hardly seem to know how to operate a smartphone –” “I have been the first shop owner in this whole area to put up a computer! And it’s perfectly functional, so I see no reason why I should replace it! And what does that have to do with…smartphones, anyway?” “’s more modern, Angel! Go with the times!” “Says the one who drives a ninety-year-old car!” Crowley just raised his eyebrows and huffed defensively. “That’s something entirely different!” “Is it?”, Aziraphale retorted, sounding rather smug. He heard a rather defensive hiss coming from Crowley. “Yeah, it iss!”

The angel chuckled at that. “Well, alright, maybe this comparison is slightly unfair, my dear…” The demon just made a noncommittal grunt of sorts before he found his voice again. “Right…Sooo…trying to find new books here or what?” The angel sighed. “Have you woken up only to pester me, you wily serpent?” It sounded fondly, the way he said it. And not a moment later, he felt Crowley’s arms sneak around his shoulders, embracing him. The demon’s hum ended in a soft chuckle. “Maybe…”, he muttered and Aziraphale could almost hear the grin in his voice. He couldn’t help it – he slightly shook his head, now smiling himself. “Well…if you must know: No, I wasn’t searching for books. I…stumbled across this page quite accidentally and…well, there is this one person with rather atrocious and truly ridiculous views and claims about Shakespeare…Utterly untenable…I…I just couldn’t let this stand…So…I registered and politely joined the conversation, trying to show this person the errors of their ways…”

Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Shakespeare? Well…the bloke did steal some of my lines and used them himself…and I’m not the biggest fan of his gloomy stuff…but I quite like his funny ones…Ha! Without us, nobody these days would have any clue about _‘Hamlet’_! Would’ve been a complete fiasco, that one, if you hadn’t talked me into doing you that favour…” “Yes, that may as well be, though I do recall that _you_ offered to do that, I didn’t even say a single –” “Ya went all puppy-eyes on me!” “Well…maybe…but as I was saying, you will indubitably agree with me that Shakespeare was a great playwright.” He felt the demon shrug. “Sure…so ya jumped up to…defend Will’s honour?” The angel blushed a little. “Well, obviously. I mean…this person here was just distorting facts and telling outright slander!”

For a moment, Crowley remained quiet, reading the parts of the conversation between the angel and the unknown Shakespeare critic that he could see on the computer screen. “Seems to have…turned into a somewhat heated discussion…”, he noted. Aziraphale blushed a good deal more, obviously flustered. “Well, as you can see, that person wasn’t exactly being reasonable…Rather on the contrary, they started attacking me, so…” “So ya fought back…” “I found it necessary to defend myself… _and_ Shakespeare. I explained to this person why their arguments and interpretations are completely invalid and nonsensical…and, frankly, offensive. I mean, of course I couldn’t say that they should believe me because I’ve actually been there, but I did make my point clear, I hope…”

Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s hand gesturing towards the parts towards the end of the conversation on the screen. “Well…Angel, call me stupid, but…this doesn’t exactly look like a calm, reasonable, friendly history lesson with dear old Aziraphale to me…” “Erm…” “’specially this bit here. Sounds pretty much like you’re going all avenging angel mode here. I mean…this isn’t just a challenge, you’re pretty much threatening that human here…I must say, I’m impressed, Angel…” Crowley sounded indeed somewhat impressed, but also amused at the same time. Aziraphale sighed. “Well, but look at what they wrote! What I had to put up with. To respond to. I am an angel, yes, but there’s only so much patience to be had. That person certainly deserved some stern talking to!”

Chuckling, Crowley moved to stand beside Aziraphale, his hand casually caressing the soft blonde curls on the angel’s head before coming to rest on his shoulder. “Well, if this is your ‘stern talking to someone’, I don’t wanna be on the receiving end of your wrath. But yes, I agree, this is fully deserved. Well done, Aziraphale! And such fine wording – I never could have come up with that! You managed to be utterly vicious and still sound polite…” “Well…running a bookshop like this and dealing with pesky customers will teach you a few skills like that, I suppose”, the angel muttered in reply.

Crowley’s broad grin was a wonderfully reassuring relief – and it was rather infectious. Soon enough, the angel was grinning as well. “Well, now I know why you’ve been typing so furiously. Must have been some righteous anger that that person invoked in you…”, the demon commented, causing Aziraphale to laugh. “Oh, you know…I do believe you’re right. I guess I’ve quite fried that person.” Crowley rolled his eyes at that. “It’s ‘roasted’, Angel…” “Well, that’s what I meant. But if I couldn’t enlighten them or at least teach them a lesson – in knowledge or at least in manners – well…if they only respond to this kind of thing, then so be it. If they refrain from behaving like that again, I’ll count this as a success. A good deed.”

Still chuckling and shaking his head, Crowley pulled his throne over and popped down into it sideways, facing Aziraphale, his legs thrown over the armrest. The angel turned his head to watch him for a moment. He had his doubts that this way of sitting – well, more or less sitting – was anywhere near comfortable, but he knew Crowley well enough not to wonder about that. There was a soft, fond smile adorning the demon’s face, open and unguarded and so full of love that Aziraphale thought his own heart might burst just from looking at Crowley. He smiled back, blissfully happy. They were finally together. Truly together. No secrets left between them, no need to hide anything anymore. That was way more important than winning an argument with some random stranger on the internet.

 _I’ll never push him away again. I should have known way earlier, I should have seen…It’s so obvious, indeed_ , he thought. Rather unasked for, his thoughts returned to all the times he’d pushed Crowley away…perhaps the worst of those back when the world hadn’t ended. He remembered their meeting at the bandstand well enough. Knowing what he knew now only made it worse. _I didn’t just hurt him –_ _I really broke his heart that day_ , he realised. Crowley noticed that something was apparently bothering the angel – his smile turned into a questioning frown. That was when Aziraphale noticed that his own expression was probably too revealing, so he reined his thoughts back into the here and now and offered Crowley a warm, loving smile. He’d definitely talk about this with the demon – and explain and apologise – but not right now. There’d be time for that later. “I love you, my dear”, he said instead, and Crowley’s smile returned and grew even warmer. “Love you too, Angel”, he replied.

The next day greeted them with nicer weather. That was pretty much the first thing the angel noticed when he woke up. He’d fallen asleep that night and was woken by the sun shining in through the windows. Normally, he’d get up now, make some tea and quite possibly some rather elaborate breakfast, pick up the newspaper (he still got the _Celestial Observer_ , despite the fact that he was on permanent sabbatical…but then, the same was true for Crowley and the _Infernal Times_ , after all) and then figure out what to do with the day.

But right now, Aziraphale was, in fact, not at all in any mood to do any of that. He was way too comfortable. He had woken up the same way he’d fallen asleep: Spooning Crowley, his arm wrapped around the demon, holding him close. And Crowley was still sleeping. With a soft sigh, the angel snuggled closer, nuzzled the soft red hair on the back of the demon’s head and breathed in the familiar scent – of fire, leather, something spicy, something very similar to the smell of matches or fireworks, and something essentially Crowley that he’d never been able to place or describe accurately. There wasn’t any trace of pure sulphur – that would be rather nasty, after all; there was only a whiff of brimstone when Crowley did any demonic miracles and things like that, especially if they were of a more hellish nature. With a happy sigh, the angel slowly dozed off again.

Crowley woke up somewhat later and a blissful smile spread across his face. His inner serpentine nature thoroughly enjoyed the warmth the angel provided. He was almost looking forward to winter – a hot water bottle _and_ the angel as a living space heater of sorts, that sounded quite perfect. Would keep him warm front and back. Marvellous! He’d gladly be the little spoon all winter long. At least. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes again – after all, if Aziraphale was still asleep, there was no reason to leave the bed.

Since they’d both woken up and fallen asleep again, they overslept rather thoroughly that day. When they finally did get up, it was way too late for breakfast. Aziraphale naturally blamed Crowley – after all, he was a demon and sleeping in was definitely a rather demonic thing to do…and anyway, Crowley had doubtlessly tempted him into this. The demon just chuckled and grinned at that, quite happily playing along and agreeing with the angel’s playful accusations. They settled for brunch instead of breakfast.

Some time later, Aziraphale found that it was time for some tea, stepped into the kitchen – and stopped short. “Crowley!” It didn’t take long for the demon to pop his head through the door, eyebrows raised in question. The angel crossed his arms. “Weren’t you supposed to do the dishes?” At that, Crowley’s expression shifted from questioning to surprised. “Uh…I cooked.” “Yes, and you left quite the mess in the kitchen.” “’m a demon, that’s how I cook. I made...brunch, means you clean up.” Aziraphale cocked his head. “Oh, does it now?” Crowley hissed. “Yesss, it doess! ‘s only fair, don’t ya think? ‘m not doing all the work. B’sides, you can just clean this up with a miracle. ‘s what I’d do…” Aziraphale sighed. “I…well…alright, fine…I suppose you’re quite right…I just…I wanted to make tea and now I have to clean all this up before I can do that…Sorry…you’re right, of course, I just thought…well, I didn’t quite expect that…there’d be such a mess in here…”

Crowley looked at him for a moment. The angel was pouting. This was hardly fair, was it? What was Crowley supposed to do? He couldn’t help himself – he softened, and with a sigh, he stepped into the kitchen. “Ugh, c’mon, let me just…take care of this…” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Oh…but…you…you don’t have to…” “Ah, shut up, Angel. My treat. Here.” And with a snap of his fingers, the kitchen was back to its previous state of cleanness and order. The angel smiled brightly enough to rival the sun as he muttered a “thank you” and moved to make some tea.

Once they were both back downstairs and Aziraphale was enjoying his tea, the angel contemplated the plans he still had for this day. It was about time that he…talked about this. Explained it to Crowley and…hoped that the demon could actually truly forgive him for that. He was taking his time to finish his tea, well aware of the fact that he was stalling. But ultimately, the cup was empty. With a sigh, he put it down with the air of someone who’d come to a decision. “Crowley…the weather is rather nice today and I thought…I…I’d like to go out…For a walk.” The demon looked up from the magazine he’d been leafing through (God knew where he got that from. Certainly not from anywhere within the bookshop), but he agreed readily enough. A short while later, they closed the front door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some domestic stuff, I guess...and yes, I'm fully convinced that if anyone of these two would go completely feral on the internet when challenged, it's definitely Aziraphale.  
> Hope you have fun reading - stay safe and take care! I've finished writing chapter 38 by now and I guess I'll end up actually finishing this story somewhere around 40 chapters, give or take one or two...A strange feeling, after all this time...


	36. To Keep You Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finds that there's something he has to get off his chest: He takes Crowley to the bandstand to talk about the last time they met there. As it turns out, Crowley, too, has some worries he needs to talk about...

Crowley wasn’t exactly expecting anything specific when he noticed where the angel was leading him. After all, they’d met here countless times. Not as often as at the duck pond in St. James’s Park, but often enough. Still, the last time they’d met here at the bandstand in Battersea Park still left a somewhat bitter taste. Crowley sighed and shook his head, trying to dispel the memories of that day. The day the world hadn’t ended. The day he’d lost Aziraphale – in several ways, in fact: The angel had pushed him away, told him that ‘it’ was over (right here, in fact), had rejected him repeatedly and then he’d managed to get himself discorporated. Well, maybe it was a good idea to return to this place – maybe some new memories would help and overwrite the old ones. Back then, they’d met here, coming from different directions…this time, they were walking hand in hand.

“Do you remember the last time we were here?”, Aziraphale asked softly. For a moment, Crowley didn’t reply. So this was about that, after all. He let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. “Yeah, I do, sure…”, he muttered and slightly shook his head, “How could I forget that?” The angel cast him a short glance. He, too, had been holding his breath and let it out with a sigh. They had long reached the bandstand by now – in fact, they were standing right in the middle of it, this time side by side instead of on opposite sides. Aziraphale swallowed, took a few more steps and then turned around to face Crowley. “You know…I…I wanted to come here with you for a reason…”, he finally began, trying very hard to actually look at the demon while speaking.

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a short moment and sighed. When he opened them again, he forced himself to look at Crowley. “I…When we met here last time, I…said a few truly atrocious things to you and…while I…did have my reasons for…for acting the way I did, it…it doesn’t really excuse me treating you like that…I…I owe you an explanation…and an apology, too. And…and I can only hope that you may forgive me…” Crowley shook his head. “Angel…’s alright…Was a rough day for everyone involved…No need to –” But Aziraphale didn’t let him finish: “No. Please. Please hear me out. I treated you abysmally, I…said things to you that one doesn’t say to a friend…let alone to a loved one. And…I lied. Partly, that is. And I know…I know I hurt you…In fact, I’m…quite sure I rather broke your heart…and I’m sorry for that…”

“Angel…I know ya didn’t mean…”, Crowley managed to croak after a string of unintelligible noises, but Aziraphale was determined. “Please, let me finish”, he asked, and the demon just sighed and gestured for him to continue. So, he did. “Well…as I said, I…had my reasons. First of all, though, I should tell you that when I denied our friendship, that was a lie. Of course we’re friends. More than that. And…well…when I said that I didn’t like you…I wasn’t exactly lying when I said that, you know? Because…‘liking’ doesn’t even come close to what I feel for you…and I hope you know that…That you know that _now_ , at least.” He looked up at Crowley. The demon stood motionless, his eyes unreadable, hidden behind his omnipresent sunglasses. There was nothing for it – the angel took a deep breath and carried on.

“As I said, I…I owe you an apology…and an explanation. I had my reasons…and…while my intentions might have been…good, I hope…the right thing to do…the way I went about it, hurting you in the process…well…that wasn’t very angelic at all, I’m afraid. I…As…as for my reasons…Well, you know as well as I do that there could always have been someone around, listening. There was always a risk, always danger. You said so yourself, back when you asked me for Holy Water – ears everywhere. So…how could I agree that we’re friends, out in the open? I…I was afraid. Not only for myself, but…but for _you_. I…I wanted to fix things…I hoped…I hoped Heaven would see reason…and if not Heaven, then…at least the Almighty Herself might stop it all if I could just reach Her. I wanted to fix this and stop Armageddon…and keep you out of that. I knew it was dangerous, I didn’t want you to get dragged into this, I…I wanted to keep you safe. I still had hope, you know? Hope that…I could do this without risking your safety…And…if that meant I had to push you away and hurt you…and maybe even break your heart and scare you off for good…well, if it meant you were safe, then that was a price I was willing to pay back then…”

Aziraphale blinked and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, noticing only now that he was crying. Crowley still hadn’t moved. For a moment, there was silence. Then, the demon shifted slightly, sighed and shook his head. “Don’t you think my safety was something for _me_ to decide on, Aziraphale?” “I…I’m sorry…I just…I didn’t want to risk anything happening to you. And…I mean…we both know you can be rather reckless. You almost died, not so long ago, risking your life for me…” “Says the one who got himself discorporated”, Crowley muttered gloomily. The angel sighed. “At least that was something that could be fixed. Contrary to permanent –” “It would have been permanent, Angel! The world was about to end!”, the demon snapped rather heatedly.

At that point, Aziraphale came to a realisation: “And you were waiting for it to end, weren’t you? When…when I found you in that pub…?” Crowley didn’t reply. The angel sighed again, for the umpteenth time. “I’m so sorry…I…I thought I could fix this on my own…”, he tried to explain weakly. Crowley laughed, but there was no happiness in it. “Until you couldn’t. Until I lost you a second time that day. Or third time, rather. B’sides: I was up to my neck in it all already. No need or use to protect me from anything. I told you – Hell was already after me! But you wouldn’t lisssten…”

“I’m sorry! Yes. You’re right. I should have listened to you”, Aziraphale pleaded, “but I didn’t. I did it with the best intentions, but it doesn’t excuse what I did. I thought I could keep you out of this, keep you safe, and…I didn’t want to…Oh, I did want to, but I _couldn’t_ run away with you. Give up on Earth. I’m a principality. I’m meant to protect Earth and all the life thereon. And…it’s the place I call home…more than Heaven ever was…But…only with you in it. And I didn’t want to risk any harm coming to you, so…you were my last option that day. And…after everything else failed…I did reach out to you…I’m sorry it was too late, in a way. I…I only fully realised the effect my actions had on you much later. Even…even when I found you in that pub…I wasn’t even sure who you were referring to when you said you’d lost your best friend. I _couldn’t_ be sure, not after I’d treated you like that…”

The choked sound he heard Crowley make caused him to pause. “’f course I was referring to you, you blessed idiot! Who else did ya think I could posssibly mean?”, the demon protested. And knowing what he knew now, Aziraphale thought that, of course, it was obvious. But back then? “Well…when I tried to call you, you said you had an old friend over…” “Yesss. Hasstur. Not exactly my best buddy.” The angel nodded. “Yes, I…know that now. As I said, I…I’m sorry. I had my reasons…Things would have been much easier, had we been…open with each other. But…we weren’t. Neither of us. And…admittedly, I wasn’t just scared of Heaven and Hell and of what they might do us…to you…I…I was also terrified of…what it meant. What I feel for you. What it would mean to…actually put it into words. To admit it. It would…make it real. Undeniable. I…I panicked. And…believe me, your heart wasn’t the only heart I broke here, on that day. I…oh, I wanted to say yes, I wanted that so badly…but I…I couldn’t. Crowley, I’m so, so sorry! I…I can explain my reasons, but…it doesn’t make it undone. I know I truly hurt you that day…And that wasn’t the first time, I know…But…you deserve to know why I did what I did and you deserve my apologies. And…I guess all that I can do now is…beg your forgiveness…again…”

There was another moment of silence. Finally, Crowley let out a shuddering breath. “Course I forgive you. Already had, same day. There’s nothing to forgive, really. ‘s fine. As you said…you had your reasons…and you hurt yourself just as much…’s fine…Forgiven and forgotten…” Aziraphale looked at him with an expression that was equal parts hopeful and incredulous. “You…you do? Forgive me?” Crowley finally closed the distance between them and reached out to take the angel’s hands in his. “Course I do. Who knows, maybe I’d have done the same. Chance of keeping you outta trouble? I might have tried. Just…don’t do this again, will ya? Don’t go and try to fix things with Heaven and Hell by yourself…”

Aziraphale had looked at their locked hands, but as he looked up now, he noticed the soft smile tugging at the corners of Crowley’s mouth, and he smiled back gratefully. “Well…if you promise not to try and run away from trouble, but help me face it, so we can fix things together?” Crowley’s smile widened. “Always, Angel…After all, we make a pretty good team”, he agreed softly and allowed the angel to pull him into a hug.

Aziraphale clung to him, smiling in relief. “You’ll never cease to amaze me, you know? A demon, forgiving an angel…and…you always came back to me…even when I behaved less than angelically and pushed you away…” He heard Crowley chuckle softly. “Well”, the demon mused, “guess you draw me in like light does a…uh…well, whatever gets drawn in by light…Just…do me a favour and don’t push me away like that again, hm, Angel?” Aziraphale smiled and tightened the hug. “Never”, he agreed.

They had returned to the bookshop after that, both of them lost in thoughts, but walking hand in hand. Aziraphale felt relieved, the tremendous burden of his actions that day finally off his mind. He’d had the chance to explain and Crowley had forgiven him. Once they’d closed the front door behind them and settled down in the backroom of the bookshop – Aziraphale in his armchair, Crowley on the sofa – they had opened a bottle of wine and the angel was just taking another sip, smiling and sighing softly. He was beginning to feel at ease once again – Crowley, however, swirled the wine around in his glass and stared at it rather pensively. “Moths…”, he finally muttered. Aziraphale frowned and looked at him. “Moths?” “They’re what gets drawn in by light, Angel…So…if you’re the light bulb, I’m the moth, I reckon…” The angel quirked an eyebrow. Under any other circumstances, he’d have laughed about this rather amusing image, but Crowley’s current mood and expression kept him from doing so. The demon sighed, still lost in his own thoughts.

Aziraphale cocked his head, watching his friend and lover with some concern. “Crowley, dear…something’s clearly troubling you…What’s wrong? Is…is it…because of today?” For a moment, Crowley hesitated, yellow eyes scanning the room, before he finally gave in, swallowed and nodded. Aziraphale waited for a moment, but when the demon didn’t seem to be willing to start talking, he opted for a little encouragement: “Well…what is it, my dear? Please…let’s talk about it, whatever it may be…I’ve had my say today, maybe it’s your turn…”

Crowley sighed and took a rather large gulp of wine. The angel was right, of course – there was really nothing for it. He sighed again, nodded and began to explain: “Well…you said something today, Angel. You said you…were afraid. Afraid not only of Heaven and Hell, but…of what it would mean for…for you and me if you’d…actually put into words and actions what you feel. What that would change…making it real…” Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide with something akin to panic. “Oh, I don’t regret it, Crowley! I mean…that we finally did put it into words and acted on it. I don’t regret a single bit about that! The only thing I regret is that I didn’t have that slip of the tongue sooner. I wouldn’t change what we have now for the world…”

Crowley shook his head. “Nah, me neither…’s not quite what I wanted to say, though. Thing is…you weren’t the only one who was afraid. Afraid of…accidentally admitting to feeling something we weren’t supposed to feel. And…I guess…in a way, you also weren’t the only one making decisions for someone else…I…In a way, I…guess I’ve done the same…” The angel frowned, a celestial equivalent of a question mark come to life, so Crowley took a deep breath and carried on. “You see…if I recall correctly, Gabriel insinuated that I’d…intend to seduce you in order to make you Fall. I…Actually…to be honest, I’ve…always been somewhat afraid that…something like that might happen. Ya see…I…I never said anything to you, I never… _wanted_ to let you know because…because I…ngk…well…I was scared. Scared of you pushing me away, yes, but also…also scared of you…not doing that. And of what might happen if you didn’t. If you…actually accepted…and felt the same. As you do. And…and part of me is still afraid. Bless it, I’m scared fuckin’ shitless! I mean…what…what if what Gabriel suggested is…partly true? What if I make you Fall? I def’nitely don’t _want_ to – Heaven, no. But…an angel loving a demon? I Fell for asking too many questions…That was enough of a reason already…And you…I…I’m sorry, I guess I’d decided that for you. Didn’t want ya to push me away, didn’t want ya to Fall, so…I kept my mouth shut, all those centuries. Now it’s out in the open, you made your decision…but…what if God makes a decision about you now because of that, and it’s all my fault? I…I’d never want to do this to you…”

Aziraphale was staring at him, open-mouthed and somewhat teary-eyed, but full of compassion. Crowley blinked a few times, trying to blink the burning sensation in his eyes away. He didn’t even try to continue talking – his voice had cracked over the last few sentences anyway and he was fairly certain that he’d be quite unable to utter anything intelligible right now. The angel sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Oh, Crowley…my dearest Crowley…”, Aziraphale softly shook his head, “I…I don’t think you need to worry about that. I don’t think I’m going to Fall. You see…if I were to Fall for loving you, I’d have Fallen long ago. But I didn’t. And…and anyway, no matter what Heaven might say or what anyone else might say, I don’t think true love can ever be wrong. Not in the eyes of the Almighty, at least. I…I know you don’t have the best opinion of Her, and I don’t blame you, but…I don’t think God would see love as something to be punished. Even…well, maybe even especially so if it’s for someone as unlikely as a demon. You may have lost God’s grace, but…that doesn’t mean you can’t be loved. You can be and should be, my dear. And no, I won’t Fall for this. I promise.” He gave Crowley an encouraging, warm smile. The demon sniffed, but he nodded and smiled back.

Aziraphale pondered for a moment, thus giving Crowley some time to process what he’d said. “No, I’m sure I won’t Fall for loving you. And…even if I were to Fall for some reason…I know you’d be there to catch me…You’d be there for me”, the angel contemplated. “Course I would, Angel”, Crowley confirmed quietly. Still, the very thought of Aziraphale going through such an experience made him feel somewhat sick. “Then we’d both be demons…and then, even Heaven and Hell would have to agree that we’re on the same side…”, Aziraphale mused. Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Better not joke about that, Angel…B’sides, you’d make a dreadful demon. Even worse than me as an angel. Total failure, utterly hopeless case.” The angel smirked. “Even more reason why it doesn’t make sense for me to Fall. Though I’m sure you’d help me along…But…as I said, it won’t happen. I’m quite certain of that. We’re right where we’re supposed to be. And _what_ we’re supposed to be.”

This actually brought a slight grin back to Crowley’s face. “Where we’re s’pposed to be? Ya mean on our own side, here on Earth?” Aziraphale smiled brightly. “Exactly, my dear boy. You know…this actually reminds me of a train of thought I’ve had a short while ago: You know…I know you don’t really like the thought, but…I do believe that this right here is how it was meant to be in the first place. I think…I thought about what it might have been like, had we met up in Heaven…if you hadn’t Fallen…Both of us angels, on the same side, me working for you…You know, I think we would have become close, but…maybe not like this. On the same side to begin with? We’d have had much less reason to stop and think for ourselves. To question things, to choose our own path…find our own side.” “Or I’d have caused you to Fall along with me”, Crowley muttered gloomily.

But the angel shook his head. “Well, I suppose we can never know for sure what things would have been like, but…I do believe that this, the way it all happened, is the best way it could all have gone…For both of us as well as for Earth, I mean. We’re right where we’re supposed to be and if the Almighty hadn’t planned it this way from the start already, it still couldn’t possibly have turned out any better than this. The way I see it now, it was…quite essential that we started out on opposite sides. Completely different…and yet, not so different at all. Two sides of the same coin, really. Or…as you once phrased it, like fire and water. Opposites, and yet belonging together. Finding those familiar bits and pieces of our own natures in each other…Like…like yin and yang, you know? Light has some darkness in it and darkness contains some light – and both need and complete each other. But…it only works this way if we are exactly like this. An angel and a demon, meeting in the middle. It wouldn’t be the same if we were both angels or demons.”

Crowley frowned a little at that, but he was listening attentively, so Aziraphale continued his somewhat philosophical musings: “Well…and this also means…that all this was probably part of the Ineffable Plan all along, don’t you think? Which means…that it does make an awful lot of sense that you say you’re better at being a demon than at being an angel. Because…maybe you weren’t meant to be one. Maybe you were meant to Fall. And become what you’re supposed to be. And…I still feel terribly sorry for what you had to go through for that…” But Crowley waved it off: “’s alright, Angel…” “No…it’s not alright, certainly not. You didn’t deserve that. And…that is one of the things I may actually hold against the Almighty. But…you said you feel fine, being what you are, mostly, and I do believe you. It makes sense, I think. It suits you. And…well, I’m inclined to agree, you are indeed better at being a demon than at being an angel, I’d say. Even though we both are…rather bad at our respective job assignments…”, Aziraphale finished with a soft smile.

Crowley snorted. “Well, ya just have to be bad enough and you get sent on permanent sabbatical…I’d say we did that rather well.” This made the angel chuckle. But then, as an afterthought, he added: “You know, Crowley, maybe…you can find a little comfort in this thought whenever you…miss bits and pieces of being an angel…?” Crowley laughed softly, a lopsided smile on his face. “’s alright, Angel. Things being as they are now, with you and me, I don’t miss a thing. I have everything I could ever want.” Aziraphale smiled back at him, his eyes shimmering with tears. “Oh, me too, my dearest, me too…”, he agreed. No, things certainly wouldn’t have turned out this way if they hadn’t met down here, on Earth, as an angel and a demon trying to find their own way through time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'm currently writing chapter 41, and there's still one big thing happening. My current estimation is now that I'll probably end up with 44 chapters altogether for this story. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading! Stay safe, and all the best!


	37. The Nature of a Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little warning: I do hope I'm still on the safe side with the rating, but they are in bed in the second paragraph, so in case you want to skip that, feel free to do so...It's not that explicit, though...
> 
> After dealing with some rather dark thoughts, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to go out the next day. They get a bit caught in the rain, which leads to a conversation about Crowley's snaky nature...

Crowley’s mood had lightened considerably after that talk they’d had over a shared bottle of wine. It was amazing, really, how Aziraphale had managed to dispel those dark thoughts that had crept into his mind since their conversation at the bandstand. Still, the demon felt somewhat shaken that evening. Shaken and…rather needy, he realised. He cast the angel a sideways glace, who, by now, had moved from his armchair to sit beside him on the sofa. “Will you love me tonight, Angel?”, he asked quietly, just loud enough for Aziraphale to hear him. The angel turned to look at him, eyes so full of love and compassion that Crowley thought he might just combust any moment from just looking at the angel – _his_ angel. “Oh, of course I will, my dearest”, Aziraphale replied and reached out to caress his cheek.

Crowley let Aziraphale take the lead that night, and the angel was more than happy to oblige. Things turned rather passionate quite quickly, and soon the demon found himself pinned to the bed and kissed fervently. He clung to Aziraphale like a drowning man to a lifeline, but he noticed that the angel seemed to be just as desperate and eager as he himself was. When Crowley cried out, however, the angel stopped short immediately and looked at him, somewhat concerned. Crowley hadn’t usually been quite so vocal before. “Alright, my dear?”, the angel asked softly. “Ngk…y-yeah…coursse…pleassse don’t ssstop…” Aziraphale wasn’t quite convinced by that: “Are…are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you…” This, however, made the demon chuckle. “You’re not. Ya won’t, Angel. Jussst…for Sssomebody’s sake, keep going. ‘m not made of glass, Angel, I won’t break. Just move. _Pleasse!_ ” The angel smiled at that. “Alright”, he finally agreed and leaned down to kiss his demon again. Crowley happily pulled him closer.

“That was perfect”, the demon muttered afterwards with a blissful sigh, when the angel snuggled up against him and began to gently caress his chest. The fluffy, blonde curls tickling Crowley’s chin and cheek successfully tempted the demon to place a soft kiss on the crown of Aziraphale’s head. The angel sighed as well, before agreeing: “Mmmh…yes, it was, rather…”, and Crowley could almost hear him smile. The demon wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, his fingertips drawing lazy patterns on the angel’s skin. When he felt that this caused a pleasant shiver to run through Aziraphale, Crowley smirked. If at all possible, Aziraphale pulled him even closer, their legs already a rather tangled mess. It didn’t take long for both of them to fall asleep and they slept soundly until morning.

The next day found both angel and demon in a considerably better mood than the previous day. In fact, since both Aziraphale and Crowley had taken the chance to talk about those rather bleak thoughts they’d kept in the back of their minds for far too long, they both felt quite elated and relieved. Soon after breakfast, the angel had suggested that they could go out for a stroll and feed the ducks in St. James’s Park. Crowley had agreed happily enough and so, they found themselves on their familiar bench a while later, watching the people and the water fowl.

“So, what do you think? Where should we go for lunch today?”, Aziraphale asked, half turning to look at his companion. Crowley seemed slightly preoccupied – he looked up at the sky, sniffed and pulled a face. “Dunno, Angel…Wherever you wanna go…But whatever, maybe we _should_ get going…Looks like rain, that…” As if on cue, the first drops began to fall. The demon’s expression soured even more. “Urgh, great…Speak of the…well…Someone…”, he muttered, scowling at the skies above. Aziraphale chuckled softly. “Well, let’s go then…I think I know just the place”, he said as he got up and held out his hand to Crowley. The demon cast him a somewhat surprised glance but allowed the angel to pull him up to his feet. Once Crowley was standing beside him, Aziraphale miracled an umbrella into existence and opened it to quickly shelter them both underneath, just in time before the first drops of rain turned into a downpour. Crowley smiled and hooked his arm into the angel’s offered elbow as they marched away from the duckpond.

Aziraphale took them to a little Italian place and talked Crowley into ordering more than just a coffee – or espresso, in fact. With half a shrug and an indulgent smirk, the demon relented, knowing full well that the angel would probably end up stealing most of the food off his plate anyway if he wasn’t quick enough at eating it himself. And that was perfectly fine, after all – Crowley wouldn’t have it any other way. In the end, Aziraphale was enjoying both their desserts…and Crowley was enjoying watching the angel enjoy the food. Funnily enough, the demon realised that, despite the fact that they were sharing a bed now and he knew the angel’s reactions in those moments of love and passion, he still found himself utterly entranced whenever Aziraphale ate something he found to be particularly delicious.

The angel closed his eyes with a blissful sigh and one of those happy little wiggles of his, as he chewed and swallowed. “This is scrummy! It was definitely the right decision to come here, I’d say”, he finally stated. Crowley needed a moment to pull himself out of his reverie, but then he agreed. “Yeah, good food, excellent espresso…and it’s dry and warm”, he added with a short gaze out of the window. It was still pouring down. Aziraphale followed his gaze and sighed. “Well, we’ll have to get back to the bookshop, though…” Crowley groaned. It didn’t look like the rain was going to stop anytime soon.

Thanks to the umbrella and a few minor miracles, they’d actually managed to arrive back at the bookshop mostly dry. Still, both angel and demon were rather relieved to be back in the dry and warm surroundings of their home. Aziraphale had the odd feeling that Crowley might be a tad more relieved than him. When they finally settled down on the sofa that evening, another bottle of wine on the table, the angel’s thoughts returned to this point. He’d been trying to read, but it seemed that his mind was too preoccupied with the demon slouching on the sofa beside him. Aziraphale sighed and softly closed his book.

When he gazed over at Crowley, he realised that the demon hadn’t noticed that he’d put his book away – Crowley was squinting at something on the screen of his phone. “Reading something interesting, dear?”, the angel asked. Somewhat startled, Crowley jumped and almost threw the phone away in reflex. “Hnkg? Wot? Uh…well, not really…Just some random stuff, ya know? Did ya know there’s a special kind of violin-thingy in Norway that has…extra strings underneath the normal ones and loads of…mother-of pearl decoration-stuff?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you mean the Hardanger fiddle? Yes, I’ve read about those – they look and sound very beautiful…” Crowley nodded. “Yup, stumbled across an image of one just now and began to research what this thing was…You _know_ about these?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, I do read a lot…and not just novels, bibles or books of prophesy. By the way…I…erm…I was wondering…” He hesitated, which caused Crowley to put his phone away and look at him expectantly. “Well…I was wondering if I could…if I _may_ ask you a question or two…”, the angel finally said, the situation reminding them both somewhat of the moment he’d asked Crowley about his past. Aziraphale still well remembered Crowley’s somewhat snarky comment to his initial wording back then, hence his decision to rephrase this time. Now, however, the demon just sighed softly and shrugged. “Sure can, Angel…Fire away…” “Even if it’s…somewhat personal?” This now made Crowley laugh. “We live together, we share a bed, I told ya about my past, we’ve known each other for six thousand years – how much more personal than all that could it possibly be?” Aziraphale blushed ever so slightly. “Alright, jolly good. Just…well…you don’t have to answer if it’s…if you don’t want to or if it’s…overstepping in any way…” Crowley just nodded and muttered an “okay”, not quite sure what to expect now.

Aziraphale took a deep breath to steady himself. “Well…as I said I…I read a lot, as you know, and…well, since we’re…pretty much living together now, I thought it might be a good idea to…try and reach a better understanding…of…well…I…I mean, I noticed a few things…quirks of sorts…over all the time we’ve known each other…and…You see, I…I’ve been reading through a few books on herpetology, serpents specifically, and…might have some questions…?” Crowley stared at him in astonishment. “Whoa, wait a moment! You…read books about snakes? What d’ya do that for?”

The angel shrugged. “Well…basically, because you…essentially are one. And…I wanted to make sure that I understand you as best I can…” Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “And ya thought burying your nose in some books would help? You could’ve just asked, ya know? B’sides, I’m…not simply a snake, strictly speaking. ‘m a demon. Demon with…a bit of a serpentine nature, if ya like. And not just any serpent, either, I’m… _the_ Serpent…” “Yes, and that’s why I wanted to gather some knowledge and then ask you! That’s what I’m trying to do now. I…just didn’t want to start at square one, you know? Or…with wrong ideas and notions. Like…this myth with snakes and milk…” “That’s bollocks! Snakes can’t even drink milk…”, Crowley muttered. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I…didn’t want to ask stupid questions…”

Crowley watched him for a moment, looking somewhat amused. “Well, you do realise that even if you read up on snakes, that won’t all apply to me, right? As I said, demon.” The angel nodded. “That’s why I asked if I may ask you some questions…So…if I may…?” The demon huffed slightly, but then he just shrugged, giving the angel a lopsided smirk and gesturing for him to carry on. “Go on, then…Ask…What d’ya wanna know? Can drink milk, by the way, in case that’s your first question.” Aziraphale smiled. “Well, I already knew that, my dear…but…there are some other things I’d like to ask…” Crowley looked at him expectantly, while the angel wondered where he’d best start.

“Well”, Aziraphale finally started, “I do realise that there must be some differences between you and ordinary snakes…I mean…I know that your ears work perfectly fine…” “Well…actually, snakes aren’t really deaf, ya know? But agreed, I can hear just as well as you…if I _want_ to listen, that is…Proper demonic thing to do, purposefully ignoring what you don’t wanna hear”, Crowley chuckled. The angel gave him a good-humoured smile. “Well, at least you usually don’t ignore me…”, he commented merrily. The demon grinned. “Usually, I don’t have any reason to ignore you, Angel. Rather on the contrary…” This made Aziraphale smile even more brightly.

“I’m so glad to hear it…Well…what about the other senses?”, the angel continued, “I mean…you did say that you have…trouble reading? Is that because…your eyes are actually more like those of a snake? I mean…you hardly ever blink, either…” Crowley sighed and seemed to hesitate for a moment, pondering how to reply to this. He frowned a little, but then he began to speak, albeit somewhat self-consciously: “Well…yes and no. Yes, I don’t need to blink a lot, but…well…my eyes aren’t simply those of a snake…’s not as easy as that, ya know? I mean…as I told you back then, excellent night vision, some thermal imaging if I concentrate enough…Works better in snake-shape, that…But…tiny stuff up close? Tends to get blurry and requires a lot of concentration, ya know? Lot of focus. Gets quite tiring after a while. And…well…the sunglasses aren’t just to hide behind, either…They…do help, too…at least at night. ‘s not as bad during the day when everything is bright…But ya see…when it’s dark out, all those bright lights in these modern times, they’re…quite blinding. ‘specially while driving…”

“Oh…”, the angel mumbled. He was well aware that his eyes were a rather sensitive topic for Crowley – and he was all the more proud of the demon for talking about this so openly. “What…what about…colours? I…I read that snakes cannot see –” “Oh, I do the see the full, normal colour spectrum, Angel. No trouble there, at least. Can see ultraviolet, too, if I focus on that…but then, that’s really nothing special…Angels and other demons can see that too…” Aziraphale smiled at that. “Yes, true…I can do that as well…It’s rather fascinating!” Crowley grinned back at him: “It is, eh? Your wings have some lovely patterns in ultraviolet, Angel…” Aziraphale blushed. “Oh…you think? Well…have you ever looked at yours? They…look like…they’re covered in iridescent speckles of shimmering stardust…like distant galaxies…”

Crowley’s smile involuntarily turned slightly melancholic at that. “Yeah, they might, I s’ppose…”, he muttered softly. The angel put a gentle, comforting hand on his arm and smiled at him. The demon’s expression lost quite a bit of its melancholy at that. He just slightly shook his head, smiled back at Aziraphale and waved it off. “’s alright, Angel…Guess…I should probably call myself lucky that my eyes are more of a mixed bag, really, and not completely those of a snake…I can cry the normal way, too…as you know…”, he added a little more quietly. “Your eyes are beautiful, dear. And please don’t ever think you’d have to hide them from me.” This, now, was enough to bring an actual smile back to Crowley’s face – and a slight blush, too.

“Uh…well…thanks, Angel…But…uhm…you were asking about other senses, right? So…I actually have a very good sense of smelling…Or…maybe call it a mixture of smelling and tasting…but I’m pretty good at that…” “Good Lord, how can you stand the smell down in Hell then?”, the angel asked. Crowley pulled a face, but he shrugged. “Well…ya get used to it, I s’ppose…” Aziraphale shuddered a little at the mere thought – which, in turn, made Crowley chuckle. “You’re generally good at sensing stuff…ethereal and occult auras and the like…better than me, anyway”, Aziraphale remarked a moment later, a thoughtful frown on his face. Crowley cocked his head, contemplating. “Well…actually, I’m not sure if this is in any way related to me being a bit of a snake…I guess that’s rather…connected to the powers I was created with…” He shrugged and sniffed slightly. “Anything else ya wanna know?”

Aziraphale nodded slowly. “A few things, actually…So…I know that snakes are cold-blooded…and…I also know that you generally seem to prefer warm and dry surroundings…?” “Well, seriously, Angel, I don’t know of any reasonable person who likes to get cold and wet. You? Sounds pretty insane to me…” Aziraphale sighed, but then he continued: “Well, probably not, right, but…it…seemed to me that…cold and wet weather seems to…bother you a tad more than…me, for instance? And…and I remember the state you were in when you went and healed yourself…Are you…actually cold-blooded? I mean…should I turn up the heating? You…you’re not…constantly feeling cold here, are you?”

The angel seemed genuinely worried. Crowley let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Nah, ‘s fine, Angel. It’s…I…ngk…I’m…not exactly just cold-blooded. Normally, I don’t have any trouble regulating my body temperature. ‘s just…well…when I’m low on energy…for some reason or another…Well, I…guess, actually that would probably be the case for all demons and angels, it…might just be a bigger problem for me specifically than for others, I think. And yes, I may prefer warmer surroundings. Means it takes less effort to keep myself warm if I can just use the sun for that instead of my own energies. So…’s no problem, really, not unless I’m in serious trouble…So, I’d say…yes, I actually am cold-blooded, I just…have enough demonic energy up my sleeve to counter that, normally…Never really thought about that, to be honest…But…I guess, at any rate, I’m…a fan of warmth?” “Thermophile, perhaps? The word you’re looking for?”, the angel suggested. Crowley frowned a bit, but then he nodded. “Yeah, sounds about right…But no worries, Aziraphale, I’m not feeling cold here – I’d tell you if ya’d need to turn up the heating…” The angel nodded slowly. “I do hope so…I’d hate for you to feel cold…Does…cold weather bother you? You said you prefer warm surroundings, after all…Does the cold…affect you?”

Crowley thought for a moment. “Well…yeah, ‘t does…Don’t like it…’specially that wet, cold weather…Just leaves ya chilled to the bone, ya know? Can’t stand that. And…what happens is…well, if I’m really low on energy, I’ll actually feel freezing, but normally, I just…get physically cold and terribly tired and…slow…in a way. Somewhat stiff in the bones. Can try to keep myself awake and going with coffee and stuff, but…well, there’ve been years where I’ve just…slept through the coldest parts of the winter…Not really good for anything in the cold, me. Requires more energy to keep myself warm, ‘s just not worth the effort, ya know? I’d rather spend that time in a warm bed with a heating blanket and a hot water bottle…” Aziraphale looked at him with an odd smile. “Sounds very much like something similar to brumation…”, he commented. Crowley frowned again. He hadn’t actually seen it that way. “Well…maybe…Maybe also a bit like voluntary hibernation?”, he ventured, “Anyway, as I said, better suited for warmer temperatures, me…” He was already trying to imagine what the next winter would be like, with the angel as a living space heater in their bed. He didn’t intend to sleep through that.

“Hmm…”, Aziraphale mused, “well, I _have_ seen you touch boiling hot stuff…and you hardly even flinched…I wondered if that was connected to you being somewhat cold-blooded…” Crowley grinned at him. “Well, I _can_ touch _you_. Nothing hotter I could think of.” “Crowley, you fiend! Wily serpent, you!”, the angel protested and playfully smacked the demon’s arm, but he couldn’t help giggling and blushing at the same time. This caused Crowley to burst into laughter as well and it was only a few moments later that the angel picked up the thread of their conversation again: “No, you know what I mean…Hot pots or…well…you can handle fire – you can actually walk right into Hellfire unscathed…”

“Well…that has nothing to do with snakes, Angel, that’s simply because I’m a demon. Like fire and water, right? Well…I’m fire. I Fell and burned. Sort of…reborn from fire and sulphur. So…any demon can do that, really. Though…depending on the circumstances, it…can hurt a bit, I can certainly _feel_ the heat, but it’s always manageable. Nothing special there, just normal demon stuff. Can light myself on fire if I like to…” To illustrate, Crowley snapped his fingers and let a few little flames dance on his fingertips for a short moment, before extinguishing them quickly. The memory of the bookshop up in flames was still a bit too close after all. Aziraphale nodded – this actually made sense. “Well, that’s what I assumed…Thank you for confirming this. But you do have some rather snake-like aspects about you, though…I mean…apart from your lovely eyes and that adorable hiss of yours…”, Aziraphale thoroughly enjoyed watching the demon blush at his words, “and…well, scales and the like and that wicked forked tongue…That’s definitely very snaky…and I like it.”

For a while, Crowley struggled to say anything – a garbled mess of consonants was all he could manage. “I…uh…I’ve…accidentally unhinged my jaw a few times while yawning…so…if that ever happens, ‘s no need to worry…and I…I shed sometimes, too…In…in my snake-shape, I mean…If I…get particularly grumpy and itchy or something like that…you…you’ll know what’s up then…Just leave me alone for a bit and I’ll be fine …’s just like…every few decades or centuries or so…”, he finally stammered, not quite sure why he was telling Aziraphale about this in the first place. But the angel just smiled. “Oh, that’s alright, dear. Good to know, doubtlessly. Thank you for telling me…Erm…I’d…actually have another question: Are…are you actually venomous?”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. “Uh…are we talking snake-shape or this?” He gestured towards himself. Aziraphale cocked his head. “Er…both…? I reckon…? I…I mean…from what I could gather, there are basically two types of serpents – constrictors and venomous ones…” “Well, if ya wanna simplify matters…” “So…what kind are you?”, the angel asked, ignoring Crowley’s comment. The demon made a noise somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “Well…neither…or…both, rather…I…”, he sighed, “I’m…pretty much a…prototype of sorts, if ya like? I’m _the_ Serpent, the ultimate snake…so…’f course I’m venomous. Very much so. Could also squeeze you to death, though…Well, not _you_ , obviously, but…ya know what I mean…”

The angel cast him a strange look – _somewhat wary? Or fascinated?_ , Crowley wondered. “And…in this shape? I mean…what about the fangs? Could you…actually…?” Aziraphale trailed off. The demon fought back an amused chuckle. “Are ya scared?” “No! Of course not. I know you wouldn’t hurt me…I just…I was wondering…” Crowley shrugged. “Well…yeah, theoretically I could bite someone in this shape. As you said, fangs and all. ‘s what they’re there for, after all. Good for self-defence, ‘specially Downstairs…” “So…you could…kill someone like that? Using venom?” The demon shrugged again. “Yup, if I wanted to…” Aziraphale frowned. “And…does that mean that you could also…I don’t know…accidentally do that?” Crowley raised both eyebrows. So the angel _was_ worried after all. “No”, he simply replied. “No?”, Aziraphale asked. “No. It’s a conscious thing with the venom. I might be able to spit it at someone if I aim well enough, but I certainly couldn’t ‘accidentally’ kill someone with it. It’s a conscious decision to use it. I can well enough bite as often as I like without involving any drop of venom. Dry bite, ya know, Angel? If I were to use it, it’s because I choose to. Because I have to. I’d never dare to let you come anywhere near it.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and nodded again, understanding written on his face. Understanding and relief. “Oh, I’m certain of that. Still, that’s jolly good to know, really. This is all tickety-boo, then!” He reached out and placed his hand on Crowley’s arm. The demon looked at him for a moment. “You sure?” But now, the angel began to smile and moved closer to him. “Very sure, my dearest…It’s fine…Thank you so much for explaining…” Aziraphale was so close now that their noses were almost touching, clearly moving in for a kiss. “You know you needn’t worry, Angel…As ya said, I’d never hurt you…On the contrary, I’d go after anyone who dares to try…” Aziraphale smiled at that. “Yes…I know, my dear…and I hope you know that I’d do the same…even though I definitely don’t have any fangs or claws to defend you…but I’d think of something else…” Crowley’s soft chuckle was drowned by the angel kissing him.

Soon enough, Aziraphale was straddling him, still kissing, while he let his hands roam over the demon’s body and through his hair. Crowley was reciprocating enthusiastically, when something else occurred to the angel and he broke the kiss. “Oh…by the way, Crowley…I…did come across something rather peculiar in my research on snakes. You…you did say you created them, right?” The demon nodded with a hum and a questioning frown. Aziraphale seemed somewhat flustered and Crowley wasn’t sure if it was because of their kissing or because of whatever the angel was talking about just now. “Crowley…is it true that…? Why on Earth…? Do male snakes really have…two efforts? Why?” The demon burst into a fit of laughter. “Uh…well…yup, that’s true…Ya see…I thought it was funny…Felt I had to make up for the lack of limbs, so…just a lil joke, really…”

Now Aziraphale began to laugh as well. “Seriously? You’re terrible! Hopeless case!” “Thanks a lot, Angel, I appreciate the compliment…” The angel finally calmed down enough to talk again: “That’s just so low below the belt, this kind of a joke…Why am I not surprised? I bet this caused a few shaken heads among the angels who helped with Creation. No wonder they only let you create one type of animal.” “Oi, come on now, Angel! Have ya ever seen a platypus? If I didn’t know better, I’d say whoever designed that was high as a kite!”

Aziraphale couldn’t help laughing. “Well…yes, agreed, my dear. But…erm…well, do you…have that as well, then? Two of them? In your serpentine shape, I mean?” Crowley shrugged. “Well, yeah, guess so…if I go for male shape…Never actually thought about it…” “Fascinating…”, Aziraphale muttered. But then Crowley continued, his thoughts drifting back to that day, so very long ago: “You’re right, though – I did cause quite a bit of outrage with that…I mean…I’d already done some mischief with the stars, so there were def’nitely a few looks of disapproval that day, when I created the serpents. ‘t was hilarious…Guess most of them just didn’t really dare to actually reproach me, given my rank…But you should’ve seen their faces…Oh, and the way Michael just stared at me, ha! Priceless!” He chuckled. Aziraphale positively smirked at him. “Oh, I wish I’d been there”, he replied with an amused smile, before Crowley pulled him into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks, it's happening! I'm actually currently writing the epilogue...What a very, very strange feeling! This also means that I may just as well return to the schedule of posting twice a week, so you may get the next chapter around the middle of next week...  
> Well, of course, the scene with the umbrella is meant to be a little nod to their very first meeting, when Aziraphale sheltered Crowley from the rain with his wing. And yes, the Hardanger fiddle (or fele in Norwegian) does exist. They are a sight to behold and they sound absolutely incredible. Personally, I'd love to try to play one some day...One can dream...  
> And yes, snake anatomy is somewhat...peculiar...  
> Oh, and...happy Valentine's! <3


	38. To Build a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Crowley basically moved in with Aziraphale, the bookshop has become somewhat crammed. So, ultimately, the angel and the demon decide that maybe it is time to build a new home, their home, together.

“Are you really sure about this?”, Aziraphale asked. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Getting cold feet, Angel? Worried about the bookshop? I thought you wanted this…?” Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, I do. And…no, I’m not worried about the shop. I know Newton will take excellent care of it in my absence…and sell as little as possible…and I do have the most important books with me, anyway…” “Which is almost all of them”, Crowley muttered under his breath, but the angel chose to ignore that comment and carried on: “No, I’m not worried…Not for myself, that is. I mean…I’ve always cherished peace and quiet…But…what about you? Won’t you get bored? I…I know how much you love the hustle and bustle of the city…” At that, he felt Crowley wrap his arms around him from behind. “Not as much as I love you, Angel…B’sides, I’d say it’s time for us to take a break and enjoy some…peace and quiet, as you called it…Won’t ever get bored with you, Aziraphale…” With that, Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s neck, causing a pleasant shiver to run through the angel. “Alright, that’s fine then”, Aziraphale agreed with a smile and a soft sigh, tilting his head to give the demon better access.

In fact, they had been thinking about this for quite some time. Several months, at least. It had all started when, after a few months of basically living at Aziraphale’s place, Crowley had announced that he was contemplating selling his flat. After all, he spent hardly any time there these days and almost all his stuff was over here, in the bookshop. This had led to them both agreeing that, due to this fact, the place was even more crammed and cluttered than before. And while Aziraphale definitely didn’t mind the clutter all that much (after all, it was proof of them living here together), Crowley actually did. It was only logical: With Heaven being a wide, white and almost sterile open space, the angel felt the need for his home to be completely different from that to actually feel like a home, like his own space, a safe and cosy nook of his own. Crowley, on the other hand, knew the crammed, confusing, suffocating and stuffy surroundings of Hell and had tried his best to escape from that by making his own home as radically different as he possibly could – classy, cool, sleek and definitely stylish but minimalistic.

So, since the demon apparently didn’t intend to return to Mayfair, they’d finally sat down to think about what to do. Of course, they could have just miracled the bookshop to be bigger – even bigger on the inside while staying the same on the outside was absolutely within the limits of possibility – but then, Aziraphale had begun to wonder, since the bookshop had always been _his_ place, if they shouldn’t rather opt for a new place that they could make _their_ home _together_. They’d spent several evenings discussing all the possibilities. Basically, they were free to go wherever they liked, the whole planet Earth was out there for them, but both had quickly agreed upon staying in England. After all, this had been their home for a considerable amount of time. For so long, in fact, that Aziraphale had perfected Englishness to such an extent that he fooled each and every human into believing that he actually _was_ English. And apart from that, while the angel was ready to move, he wasn’t quite ready to truly part with the bookshop he’d called his own for centuries.

“Well, where d’ya like to go? Stay here in London or…?”, Crowley had asked one of those evenings. “To live? Hmm…”, Aziraphale had pondered for a moment, “well…I do like London…and…there are so many places here that I feel attached to, so many places I…connect with you…But then again, maybe it would be nice to have some peace and quiet…Maybe…somewhere nice in the country? Maybe…near the ocean or something…Where it’s green and where the nights are dark enough to actually see the stars…We could stargaze together and you could show them all to me…But…I wouldn’t want to be too far away from London…I mean…as I said, it’s…it’s still home, in a way…and…and this shop…and…and all the possibilities and opportunities, the restaurants, the theatres and museums, the culture…and St. James’s Park…and…all the memories…and…well…” He’d trailed off after that, leaving them both to think about what he’d said.

It had been quite a few days later when, rather unrelated to their wondering of where to try and build their new home together, Aziraphale had brought up that day when they’d gone flying and ended up somewhere in the South Downs. “That was a wonderful day…and a lovely evening…We still haven’t gone back there, with some wine and a picnic…That’s what we’d intended…”, he’d mused. Crowley had chuckled. “Well, that’s what _you_ said, Angel! I said that I’d most definitely _not_ go flying while carrying a blessed picnic hamper. Oh, by the way – did ya know there’s a place there called ‘Devil’s Dyke’? That sounds like a spot we should def’nitely pay a visit, eh, Angel?” Aziraphale had laughed. “I’m not entirely sure if you’d want to go there because of the landscape or because of the name…” The demon had just smirked. “Maybe a bit of both…”, he’d admitted.

Somehow, however, the idea of the South Downs had stuck and when Aziraphale had discovered a lovely cottage there offered up for sale, the wish to simply go and buy it had come up almost immediately. It had looked rather lovely, judging from the pictures, and whatever needed fixing or changing could be taken care of easily enough with a miracle or two – after all, they weren’t two supernatural entities for nothing. Still, both had decided that driving out there and having an actual look before going through with the purchase was probably a good idea, and so, they had made the trip out of London to inspect their possible future home.

It was just as lovely in real life as it had been on the pictures: There was a garden – a smaller patch in the front and quite a large bit in the back, featuring a small pond and a few trees, among them an old apple tree in the front garden, and the cottage itself was surprisingly roomy. It definitely needed some fixing here and there, but there’d be space enough for a lot of books and it also featured a nice, sunlit room that would just be perfect for a winter garden for Crowley’s plants. There was a large living-room with a cosy fireplace, too, a spacy bathroom, two bedrooms (well, they’d only need one, but it was nice to have a spare, in case they’d ever have guests) as well as a cellar suitable for storing wine and a garage with room enough for the Bentley. They could hear the ocean if they stepped outside, the next village was in walking distance, but far enough away, and since there were no larger settlements in close proximity, it was quite probable that they’d have a wonderful view of the stars at night. It seemed perfect – just what they’d been looking for.

They hadn’t waited a moment longer and had decided to buy this cottage on the spot. With the deal made, Aziraphale had begun to ponder what to do about the bookshop. He didn’t want to fully close down, after all – not after this shop had been in existence for over two centuries. But if he was to retire to the countryside, he wouldn’t be able to take care of the shop very often. So, after some debating, the angel had come up with the idea of hiring a human to work for him – but which human? Said human would have to be reliable, trustworthy…and it would be preferable if they knew that the shop owner was…somewhat unusual.

“Well, maybe you should ask that witchy American book girl who helped us stop the Apocalypse. She’s a witch, she might know someone…”, Crowley had suggested. “What, you mean the young lady you hit with your car?” The demon huffed and rolled his eyes at that, but he chose to not make a comment on it and merely grumbled instead. Still, Aziraphale had finally acted on that idea and called Anathema, who, as they’d discovered, had actually stuck around and settled down with Newt. As luck (or a small miracle?) would have it, Newt was actually quite taken with the idea of becoming the angel’s full-term employee and representative in the shop – as long as Aziraphale would agree to not let him do anything involving computers. So, this, too, was settled rather easily.

They’d invited Anathema and Newt over to show them the bookshop and for Aziraphale to show Newt what he’d have to do. Apart from a minor accident involving Newt and one of Aziraphale’s customer traps, it all went smoothly and both humans happily agreed to accept the angel’s more than generous offer. Since Aziraphale had decided to take along a large amount of his books, Anathema had suggested that she might fill the gaps in the shelves with some esoteric works she could procure, and Aziraphale had happily agreed. He’d even offered them his flat, but Anathema and Newt had declared that they were perfectly happy at their own place and that Aziraphale and Crowley would need a place to stay if they came over to visit London for longer than just a few hours. So, the flat would continue to be Aziraphale’s, even though quite a bit of its furniture was to be moved to the cottage. They’d taken care of moving all the big stuff the same way Crowley had moved his stuff to the bookshop: By and by and via miracles. In the end, the bookshop looked quite a bit emptier than before.

Aziraphale sighed, opened his eyes again and looked around. Most of the important things were already over at the cottage. It felt…strange, in a way. He felt oddly melancholic, but excited at the same time. Yes, he was definitely ready to build a new home together with Crowley – _their_ home, their own place. The demon still had his arms around him and was still trailing kisses and gentle nibs along his neck, which was rather distracting. Chuckling softly, Aziraphale turned around to face Crowley and kiss him back. “Well, are you ready to go, then, my dearest?”, he asked as he broke the kiss, smiling brightly. The demon smiled back at him. “Ready to go home? I most certainly am.” _Home_. That sounded quite perfect to both of them. Aziraphale smiled. “Excellent. I do believe Anathema and Newton shall be here any moment now and…then off we go…”

After Aziraphale had handed Newt the keys to the bookshop, they’d driven off towards the South Downs. Crowley had been yelling at the other drivers, cyclists and pedestrians and Aziraphale had been clutching his seat, but once they were out of the city, the demon’s complaints quickly turned into him softly humming along to Freddie’s voice on the car radio instead. “You know…you could actually drive at a normal, reasonable speed?”, the angel asked. Crowley frowned. “Where would be the fun in that?” “Well…I’d feel safer…?” “Oh, come on, Angel! You wouldn’t want it any other way!” The angel sighed, his eyebrows raised. “Perhaps…”, he muttered.

After a while, Aziraphale managed to relax a bit – after all, Crowley was right when he kept insisting that he’d never discorporated them with the car, never even injured them. The angel began to listen to the demon softly singing along to the radio, and after a while, he joined in, humming the melodies he knew so well by now. Crowley cast him a short glance and Aziraphale looked back at him with a fond smile and reached out his hand. The demon didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation, taking the angel’s hand in his own, threading their fingers, and simply holding it for most of the rest of their journey, steering with the other hand. Crowley did seem to slow down a bit, but still, Aziraphale felt relieved when the Bentley finally came to a halt at the cottage – _their_ cottage.

Over the next few hours, they were both busy creating their home the way they wanted it to be. They’d simply miracled everything over, so it was rather chaotic when they arrived. They’d have to decide how and where to put everything. Aziraphale created himself a reading room, lined with bookshelves and a little nook by the window where he could read, while Crowley took care of the room for his plants. Though, of course, there were quite a few plants throughout the house, too. Angel and demon dealt with the living-room together – after all, it was _theirs_ – which resulted in a somewhat odd but strangely fitting combination of two utterly opposed styles of home decoration. There were two large bookshelves, the flatscreen tv, the stereo, the gramophone and a collection of CDs and vinyl records, the sofa, Aziraphale’s armchair and Crowley’s throne, the fireplace that had already been there, and throughout the whole house, they created little nooks and crannies for numerous souvenirs they’d collected throughout history, most of them belonging to Crowley. The lectern went into the garden, the statue of good and evil fighting ended up as a centre piece in Crowley’s plant room, the Mona Lisa sketch found its place on the wall in the living-room. Once again, Aziraphale reminded himself that he’d have to ask the demon for a few background stories to all those souvenirs of his. A few the angel knew of, but others still mystified him.

Crowley insisted on remodelling the bathroom, sleek and stylish, but luxurious, adding underfloor heating, a huge bathtub and a walk-in shower. The kitchen was a bit of a point of discussion: Aziraphale insisted on doing it since he’d be the one making breakfast and he’d be here frequently to make some tea or cocoa, or to bake something, while Crowley insisted that he’d probably do most of the cooking, so the kitchen would be _his_. In the end, they settled on a compromise they were both happy with, once again doing things together, just as they’d done in the living-room. The bedroom they took care of together as well, both insisting on a huge and comfy bed, large windows (“We could even do some stargazing at night, dear”, Aziraphale had said, eliciting a warm smile from Crowley), and if Aziraphale insisted on a tartan quilt, at least Crowley could convince him to accept the dark, silky sheets. There were some red, cream-coloured and light blue accents here and there and when the angel added a deep red, soft, plush carpet, the demon didn’t complain.

Crowley insisted that he’d have a lot of work to do to get that garden up to his standards, while Aziraphale thought of maybe adding a green house and growing some berries, herbs and vegetables. “We could also get some ducks for the pond”, Crowley suggested with a smirk, “might keep the slugs away, too…” He already thought of maybe trying to make a little star observatory for himself, too, some day. Yes, this would be just perfect. Some time later that day, the demon was standing in the middle of the garden he’d started reorganising, after finishing what he’d wanted to do with the cottage itself. It was only now that he noticed that the sun was beginning to set. He looked around once again with a happy smile. Just then, Aziraphale came out to join him, wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his head against Crowley’s shoulder. “Happy, my dear?”, he asked. “Mmmh…‘happy’ doesn’t even come close, Angel”, the demon replied softly, still smiling. Perfect indeed.

“Have you checked with book girl and her boyfriend if everything’s alright with your shop?”, Crowley asked a moment later. Aziraphale loosened his grip a bit, so his partner could turn around to face him. “Oh, yes, I have. It’s all fine, actually. I didn’t doubt it would be. Now…I do believe we’ve done quite enough for today, don’t you agree? Basically creating our own home…I must admit I feel a little weary after all the miracles I’ve worked today…” “Yeah, me too…A little…But I’d say it was worth it, Angel…For a dream home?” The angel smiled. “Oh, doubtlessly! But I guess we do deserve some time for recreation now…”

Crowley smirked. “Well, Aziraphale, I know just the thing. We could stay out here for a bit and see if the stars are really so much brighter here and then…Well, you allowed me free rein for the bathroom, so…I’d suggest we try out that bathtub I put in there and take a nice, hot bath…” Aziraphale looked at him somewhat sceptically. The thought of Crowley in a tub still made him somewhat uneasy. “It’ll be fine, Angel…Nice and warm…and you’ll be there to protect me, after all. There will be a rubber duck, too, I promise.” This, finally, made the angel smile. “And lots of bubbles?”, he asked. “Oh, most definitely. And…maybe two glasses and a bottle of champagne…After all, if this isn’t a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is”, Crowley replied with a grin. “And after that, we could sit together by the fireplace, cuddling on the sofa under a nice, soft, fluffy, warm blanket”, the angel added, smiling beatifically. As far as perfect starts went, the first day of their new life together in a home they’d build for themselves had doubtlessly been one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, we're off to the South Downs finally. It's almost a happy ending, if it weren't for one tiny thing that they've forgotten about...But for now, they deserve their perfect start in their new home together...  
> Hope you have a good time reading! Stay safe!


	39. The Art of Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley are settling into their new life together in their cottage. Eventually, the angel remembers that Crowley once said he could teach him healing and he decides to ask the demon for a lesson or two...

Summer had come to the cottage in the South Downs with its full force: The sun was shining and there didn’t seem to be a cloud in the sky. Crowley and Aziraphale had both been working in the garden – after all, the angel hadn’t been the Dowlings’ gardener for years for nothing (even though he’d definitely had some help back then from the demonic nanny). Due to the warm weather and the fact that they were working in the garden, both angel and demon had quickly discarded their jackets – they were in their shirts, sleeves rolled up, hands rather dirty.

They ended up bickering for quite a bit, however, since Crowley was insisting that Aziraphale was spoiling the trees, bushes, herbs and even the lawn. After all, Crowley had only just terrified them all (especially the lawn) into almost perfect behaviour. Aziraphale smirked: “So I’m thwarting your wiles, then? Look, maybe some kindness now and again won’t hurt – the strawberries seem to do most excellently!” “Don’t let them hear that, Angel! Thwarting me? In my own garden?” “Our garden, Crowley”, the angel objected. The demon rolled his eyes, and since he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, this was a distinctly visible reaction. (In fact, he hadn’t been wearing his sunglasses at all since they’d arrived, except if they went out.) “Our garden…”, he muttered, “Fine, if you thwart me, I’ll just have to thwart you back, then…You’ll see…”

Still somewhat grumbling, they continued working for a while, until both decided that they’d done quite enough and that it was too hot anyway. Time for a break. Thus, a bit later, the angel was sitting in a wicker chair, lost in a book, a straw hat on his curly head providing some shade on the pages. Beside him, Crowley was stretched out on his back, hands folded behind his head, eyes closed and very clearly just basking in the warm sunlight. Both had used a quick miracle to get the dirt off their hands, but they had contemplated going to the beach if the weather stayed like this. _Not today, though_ , the angel thought. There was plenty of time for that, after all. He glanced over at the demon beside him and smiled. Had Crowley actually fallen asleep?

Thanks to a number of flowers and blooming bushes in the garden, there were bees and bumblebees and butterflies buzzing around everywhere and occasionally, there was a “quack” from one of the ducks they’d acquired for the pond a while ago. One such tell-tale noise made the angel remember the day they’d got those ducks. It had been on a whim, really, after Crowley’s initial joke that they should get some. They’d stumbled across an advert of someone selling some ducklings in the area and had rather spontaneously decided that they quite missed feeding the ducks in St. James’s Park after all and that it would be nice to have some for the pond here. So, they’d grabbed a box, jumped into the Bentley and went to purchase a few of those ducklings. As it was, the very excitable young birds made quite a mess – even before they’d managed to put them into the box. At first, both angel and demon had pulled a face. Aziraphale was always careful about his clothing, after all, and Crowley was less than amused to find not only his clothes dirty, but his beloved car, too. In the end, they had laughed about it, though. After all, it was nothing a miracle couldn’t fix. By now, the ducklings had grown up into proper ducks and had made the pond their own.

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head, thinking back to that day. Then, he looked over at Crowley again. A butterfly had sat down on a strand of fiery red hair, and the angel chuckled softly as he saw that. “Are you sleeping, my dear?”, he asked. “Hmm…well…that’s one of those questions…”, the demon replied cryptically without opening his eyes. The angel frowned. “Whatever do you mean?” Crowley sighed. “’s one of the questions ya can only reply to with ‘no’. I mean…if I was asleep, I wouldn’t answer. So…obviously, since I’m talking to you now, means I’m not sleeping.” “Unless you talk in your sleep, dear. That is a well-known phenomenon, after all – there are people who do that.” This was enough for Crowley to actually open his eyes and sit up. He frowned at Aziraphale. “I don’t do that! Or…do I…?” The angel laughed merrily. “Normally you don’t, no…And even if, it’s definitely not a proper conversation with replies that actually make sense.” Crowley still stared at him, somewhat slack-jawed and taken aback. “Huh…”, he just managed with a nod.

Aziraphale offered him another smile. The fact that Crowley had moved had apparently disturbed the butterfly which was now fluttering around them both. It landed on the angel’s book, but didn’t seem to like that spot, fluttered off again, then landed on his hand. Aziraphale laughed softly and gently raised his hand to take a closer look at the little creature. “My, will you look at this…”, he muttered. The butterfly remained where it was, closing and opening its colourful little wings a few times, before it decided that it had enough and took off again. Crowley had watched with some amusement, until the little animal apparently decided to return to the place it had been resting in before it had been disturbed. It fluttered around the demon’s head for a moment before settling right on the tip of his nose. Crowley froze.

Now it Aziraphale’s turn to watch with amusement. The demon blinked a couple of times, then went all cross-eyed in his attempts to squint at the butterfly that didn’t seem to have any intentions of leaving its spot on his nose and instead kept opening and closing its wings, just as it had done on Aziraphale’s hand. “Ngk…uh…Angel…help?”, Crowley managed, but Aziraphale burst into a fit of giggles and laughter. The image in front of him was really just too hilarious and adorable, looking even more surreal due to Crowley’s slit pupils. “Hng…?”, the demon stammered, but he didn’t dare to move. Aziraphale did his best to calm himself down enough to actually say something: “Oh, this little fellow seems to be quite taken with you! Not that I can blame it…You’re not scared of a butterfly, are you, my dear?” “N-no? No! Not scared at all, me! Never! Just…confused? ‘m not a flower!” Crowley slightly shook his head. Aziraphale burst into another fit of laughter, but his comment had been enough to rouse Crowley out of his stunned, frozen state and elicit this rather indignant reaction. So, the butterfly found that its chosen resting spot wasn’t remaining quite as still as it had hoped and it fluttered off, searching for a more tranquil spot.

Crowley huffed, muttering something along the lines of “weirdo” after the butterfly, while Aziraphale still giggled. The demon followed the butterfly with his gaze for a moment before turning back to the angel. “Have you called the bookshop today, Angel?” “Oh, of course I have. Newton said he’s sold one of the Thackerays, two Brontës and a couple of Anathema’s esoteric books…and he’s asked if I want him to acquire a few new books. Anathema sent me some suggestions, I already replied with yes or no for all of them respectively, I’ll of course pay for them and I’ve sent Anathema some of my own suggestions, so everything is just tickety-boo.” Crowley nodded at that. Aziraphale truly seemed blissfully happy. “Well, that’s great, then…”, the demon replied after a moment and he began to smile back at the angel, which made the angel’s smile only grow brighter.

“If the weather stays like this, we could go to the beach tomorrow”, Aziraphale suggested after a moment. Crowley quirked his eyebrow. “To swim? D’ya even have anything to wear for that? And I mean anything that’s not a hundred years or older…” “Well, I’m sure if I can’t find anything appropriate, there will be shops where I can purchase something”, the angel replied loftily, causing the demon to chuckle. “Is that a yes for the beach, then, or a no, Crowley? We could also get some ice cream along the way, too…” Aziraphale’s eyes began to shine as soon as he voiced that idea. Crowley just shrugged and smirked. “Sure, Angel. Beach it is. Gladly, I’d love to go.” The angel positively beamed at him. “Oh, marvellous!”, he said.

“So…this means we already have a plan for tomorrow…Did you have anything planned for the rest of today? Or d’ya wanna keep on reading?”, Crowley finally asked. “Oh, I guess we’ve been quite busy enough for today, don’t you think? And…I assume you wanted to enjoy the sun?”, Aziraphale responded. The demon grinned. “Well, thank you for considering my thermophile nature, Angel. However, warmth also means that I feel quite…energetic, actually. No problem lazing around for the rest of the day, though. Always love that. Sloth is a sin, after all…” The angel laughed. “Well, if you’re feeling like you want to do something…well…actually…I might have something on my mind…” He hesitated, but Crowley’s expectant face made him continue: “Well…you said some time ago that…you could teach me healing? Does…that offer still stand?”

Crowley looked somewhat surprised. “Uh…sure, yeah…why not? Could do that if ya like…’s not done in a single day, though, I guess…but we could start, sure…You…know some stuff already, anyway, so…no need to start from zero…” Aziraphale nodded. “Well…I didn’t expect you to teach me everything today, but…a start would be great. As I told you, it always interested me and…yes, I know a few things. Mostly taught myself. Fixing a broken bone or something like that with a miracle, that’s quite manageable, even without any extensive knowledge…At least…helping humans is possible most of the time…” The demon smirked. “Yeah, and you know how to fix wings with plucked feathers now…” Aziraphale smiled softly. “Well…thanks to you, more or less…But…I guess I’d…need some more background knowledge to actually do proper healing…also for angels and demons, specifically…and I think that would be quite a good thing…We’re on our own here, after all, and I do hope we’ll be left alone, but…if anything should ever happen to you, I want to be able to help you. Just as you helped me with my broken wing.”

Crowley smiled back at him, a warm, genuine smile, and he nodded. “Quite understandable…And yes, I agree, actually…So…”, he sighed, “where to start?” The angel shrugged. “Well…I don’t know…” “Well, _I_ don’t know how much _you_ know…Don’t wanna bore you…or assume that you know stuff that ya don’t…” Aziraphale smiled. “Well…just start at the beginning. I’m sure you won’t bore me…and if I already know something, I can let you know…Maybe I also got things wrong and you can rectify that.” Crowley nodded. “’kay, fine. Sounds good. So…well…let’s get started, then…”

Crowley settled down cross-legged on the grass, facing Aziraphale. “Well…as you just said, you used miracles for healing, right?” The angel nodded, so Crowley continued: “Well, thing is, this does work – obviously – but…it’s a bit of a waste of energies. It’s not as precise a way of doing this and it will only work on…well, earthly stuff, let’s say. Animals, plants, humans, our corporations – wings, partly, because they are sort of…in-between, ya know? Belong to our occult or ethereal self, but can be manifested here, on this plane of existence, too. You’d run into trouble, though, if you were to try to heal some actual occult or ethereal issue. So…it’s more recommendable, in general, but especially for these specific instances, to not simply use a general miracle, but to work more precisely and with more…well…more knowledge of the matter at hand, ya know? You following?”

Aziraphale frowned a little, but then, he nodded. “Yes, that does sound quite logical. So…does that mean that it…cost me more energy than it said in the book to fix your wings because I used a general miracle and not because I’m an angel and you’re a demon? I mean…I tried to do what it said in that book…” Crowley sighed. “Well…yes and no. It would def’nitely require more energy for an angel to heal a demon and vice versa, but I guess you ended up using even more energy than that because…well, you tried to do what the book said, but didn’t exactly know what you were doing or rather how you were supposed to do it. It wouldn’t have been quite as…draining on you, had you done it the proper way, ya know?” The angel nodded again, thoughtfully. “Alright, jolly good…But…how do I do this, then? Doing it properly?”

The demon smirked slightly. “Well, that’s what I intend to explain to you. Rest will be you needing to practise that over time and ya’ll be all set. And as for any invocations and the like…’s rather formulaic, in a way, like what you already did with my wings…Just…don’t talk of wings and feathers if ya don’t wanna fix wings and feathers. Invoke what you actually want to do. So that part is fairly straightforward. Also secondary, in a way, more of a reinforcement of your thoughts. This here, what I’m telling you now, this is like…the basis, ya know? See…everything has a…a certain…hmm…how to explain this…? Well, think of it this way, Angel: There’s…like…an underlying basic individual plan-thingy to everything…” “Like…molecules? Atoms? DNA?”

Crowley frowned and shook his head. “Yeah, that too, but…’s not exactly what I mean…’s more like…like a blueprint of sorts. Individual blueprint…plan…thingy. Showing you what it’s s’pposed to look like, inside and out. If ya wanna heal something, look beyond what you can see, look for that blueprint-thing. You’ll see exactly what’s wrong and you use your energies exclusively on that. That way, you can even fix stuff you’ve never seen before.” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and nodded with understanding. “Ah…I see…That makes sense…” Crowley chuckled. “Well, if ya think so, then you’ll just have to practise that. Requires more concentration than just using a general miracle, at least at first, but as I said, more precise, better results, less of a waste of energies.”

With that, he looked around for a moment, before leaning over and picking one of the daisies growing around them. He held it out to Aziraphale. “Well, Angel, let’s try it, then. Here. Fix it. Don’t just use a miracle”, he pointed out when he noticed the angel making a move, “look at it, don’t just use your eyes, look for its…blueprint-plan-thingy. _Then_ fix it. Take your time.” The angel nodded, reaching out for the daisy, and looked at it for a while, brows furrowed in concentration. Then, he made a soft gesture over it and it was gone from his hand and had instead reattached itself to where Crowley had plucked it from. The demon raised his eyebrows and smiled approvingly. “Well done, Angel. Always good to start with plants – they are pretty sturdy and…easy to deal with. Of course, fixing a being that’s more similar to oneself also has its advantages…Feels more familiar, after all…But with a plant, it’s not that bad if things go wrong…”

Aziraphale looked up at him, somewhat concerned. “Go wrong? You mean…?” The demon shrugged. “Well, sure, things can go wrong, but usually, if you concentrate, the worst that can happen is that you’re not fast enough.” The angel frowned, so Crowley looked around again and then handed him an old, dry piece of wood. “What about this, then, Angel? Fix this?” Aziraphale took it, somewhat hesitantly, and he keep staring at it for quite some time, concentrating, but his frown only grew. “I…I don’t seem to…I…I don’t think I can…”, he finally mumbled, sounding rather disappointed in himself, now clearly failing after that initial success with the daisy.

Crowley, however, gave him an almost rueful smile. “No, you can’t. You can’t heal something that’s long dead, Aziraphale. If it only just stopped breathing, that’s fine, ya can fix that. Like with that…unfortunate pigeon of yours that you accidentally suffocated at Warlock’s birthday party, remember?” The angel winced slightly at that memory, but Crowley kept talking: “But once it’s actually dead for a while, starts to decay and all that…there’s nothing you can do with any healing…Ya might revive something like that with a miracle, like…a zombie, I s’ppose, but…that’s about it. Won’t be the same as actually healing it…and it’s rather…eerie if ya ask me…So…as for healing, there’s nothing left to be done in such cases. ‘s also not necessarily advisable to…mess with Death himself, ya know…”

The angel nodded slowly. “So…this means that I…should take my time and concentrate to do it properly, but at the same time, time might be of essential importance?” Crowley nodded in agreement. “Well, yup, basically. And apart from that, of course, you’re working with high levels of energy, concentrated in specific locations. If you’re not precise enough or do it wrong, you may cause pain or further damage.” “Oh…” Aziraphale was back to frowning, but Crowley cocked his head, reached out and patted the angel’s arm reassuringly. “’s alright, Angel, don’t fret. Even if something goes wrong, well…you’re in the process of healing anyway, so ya can fix that, too. Will just take a bit longer and require more of your energies if ya have to fix a mistake you’ve made along the way. Not that bad, usually. And…well, first of all, you can practise as much as ya like now and secondly, you’re not alone. I’m happy to lend a hand if you run into trouble.”

“Hmmm…”, Aziraphale pondered for a moment, “but…if I only practise on plants…well…the poor plants…and…and won’t I eventually have to…well, try on something else? Especially if I eventually want to be able to help _you_ in case you’ll ever need…need my help in that way…?” Crowley thought for a moment. “Well…I don’t really want to hurt one of our ducks for you to practise on, to be honest…but…” He snapped his fingers and summoned one of the ducks into his hands. It started quacking and beating its wings in protest almost immediately. Aziraphale grew pale. “Crowley…please, I didn’t mean…” But the demon just stared at him, one eyebrow raised. “You’re not seriously believing I’m gonna…hmpf, really, Aziraphale! Just…simply look at it. Same way you checked that daisy. Just tell me if ya can make out its…internal plan. The blueprint-thingy. And if there’s anything wrong with it, while you’re at it already…”

Aziraphale swallowed and sighed, relieved that nothing was about to happen to the duck after all. Internally, he wanted to slap himself. Of course, Crowley wouldn’t purposefully hurt an innocent duck on a whim! What had he been thinking? “Concentrate, Angel!”, he heard the demon demand, so he took another breath and tried his best to reach out for the duck’s essential building plan with his senses. “It…yes, I can sense it…It seems all fine…apart from the fact that it’s somewhat upset…but as far as I can judge, it’s all perfectly healthy.” Crowley nodded and released the duck. “Good. Well done, Aziraphale. Ya know…maybe you can practise with some of those grasshoppers and the like, living here in the garden…They often have a missing leg or two – you could fix that. You’d just have to catch them first…” This actually made the angel chuckle. “That sounds like a jolly good idea, actually. I might go grasshopper-hunting over the next few days, then…” Crowley snorted. The image of the angel chasing after grasshoppers to fix any ones he could find with injuries was way too amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, for now they are safe and happy...and they'll be fine, I promise!  
> I actually went and got some ducklings with a friend of mine a few years ago - she wanted them for her garden and I was the one with a car to drive her there. And yes, they are very excitable and prone to make a mess. Alas, we didn't have any miracles at our disposal, so we had to use the washing machine and the bathtub...It was fun, though...  
> Hope you enjoy reading! As always, stay safe!


	40. I Really Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short warning of a tiny bit of self-harm in this chapter - it's not too bad, though.
> 
> Crowley and Aziraphale continue with their lesson in healing, and since Crowley wants to make sure that the angel is prepared for every eventuality, he takes it a step further - which, in turn, upsets Aziraphale a bit. But they reconcile rather quickly - and yes, a bit of wing-preening is very likely to turn into something more passionate...

Crowley and Aziraphale were still sitting on the grass in their garden, both lost in thought. Aziraphale was trying to process what he’d just learned. After a moment of silence, Crowley sighed. He’d been thinking about how and if to continue from here. He’d shown the angel the first, basic and most important things, the principles of it all. The rest was more or less just a matter of practice – and for now, the angel probably had enough things to process. Aziraphale did seem to be getting the hang of it rather quickly, however, and the angel was right, too: He was interested, he needed to practise, he didn’t seem to be particularly tired now and the whole point of this all was that Aziraphale would be able to actually help _Crowley_ , in case that was ever necessary, even and especially in case the demon was rendered unable to explain to the angel what to do. With his decision made, Crowley nodded to himself and snapped his fingers again for another summons.

“Well…you do have a point, though, Angel…As you said, the actual point is for you to learn how to help me, same way as I could help you. Well…when it comes to angels and demons, it’s a bit…more complicated, let’s say. There’s our corporation, for one thing. That’s pretty much the same thing as healing a human. So…ya know…in case I stumble down the stairs and break my leg, you could fix that the same way as if you’d be healing a human. Just the corporation, fairly easy and straightforward. Then, there are our wings. As I said, they are…bit of a mixed bag. Part of our true, inner nature, but as long as they are actually manifested in this plane of existence, they are…just slightly more difficult to fix than our corporations. Fairly easy for both angels and demons, too, because it’s not actually necessary to dig too deeply for that…blueprint-thingy – because they are essentially very much the same. So…when your wing was broken, I just had to see what the injuries were and could fix that, because I _know_ what a wing’s s’pposed to be like and how it works. Same for you fixing my wings – basically, your instinct told you what you had to do to…fill the gaps left by the instructions in the book. To put those instructions into action and make it work. ‘s way more difficult when it comes to…actual internal damage…”

Crowley hesitated, but Aziraphale nodded slowly. “As…as was the case when you…when Hastur…”, the angel couldn’t quite bring himself to actually say _‘when Hastur shot you’_ , so, instead, he continued: “And…and you said there are differences there, right? Between angels and demons? You mean…I mean, obviously, our auras are very different…” The demon hummed, somewhat thoughtfully. “Well…yes, but I’m not just talking auras here. In a way, our auras are simply what…shines through from our inner essences. A manifestation in all planes of existence. Bit like a shadow of sorts, in a way, or a…glow, maybe. But yes, there are differences. And…I guess, since we draw on somewhat different kinds of energies…or use them somewhat differently…well, we can do the same stuff with them, it’s just…prob’ly not ideal to use them on each other specifically. Works, though…but that’s why it requires more energy for an angel to heal a demon or the other way round. Might also…not be quite that pleasant of a feeling, either, if used on our very essences. Not that that matters in a life-or-death situation, but anyway.”

For a moment, Crowley remained silent, with Aziraphale patiently waiting for him to continue. Finally, he did: “Ya know…your ethereal self is…sort of hidden away, right? Sheltered in a…protective layer of sorts, a vague shape…I could prob’ly see that shape if I were to focus on you, but that’s all I’d be able to make out, as the centre of your general aura, unless you let me in, specifically. Either because you choose to or because you…you’re…”, he swallowed, the very thought filling him with dread, “because you’re in too bad of a shape to keep that layer up…Which would mean that you’re really, really in dire need of help.”

Aziraphale had noticed how pale Crowley had gone at the mere thought of anything happening to him, but he nodded again. The demon sighed, before he continued softly. “Well…’s the same for demons, too…Same kinda vague shape of an outer layer…and…frankly, I…I’m not quite sure I’d want ya to…actually see beyond that. Not right now. ‘s really not a pretty sight, ya know? But we’ve only just started, so I guess you have enough to think about and practise already…” Aziraphale was about to reach out and…comfort Crowley. He wanted to tell him that it was alright, that he had no problem with seeing the true nature of the demon in front of him, that he _knew_ and loved Crowley, no matter what his occult essence looked like. And that it was alright if Crowley didn’t want to show him, that he had indeed quite a lot to wrap his head around for now. Instead, he found himself agreeing: “Well…yes, you’re right, I guess I’ll be busy enough hunting for injured grasshoppers in the near future…”

Crowley frowned, but then, he took a deep breath, trying to regain his somewhat wavering resolve. He didn’t want to push Aziraphale too much, but for what the angel actually wanted to learn, grasshoppers and daisies alone wouldn’t do. Aziraphale was a principality and a trained guardian, he’d seen combat training and he’d been on Earth long enough to have seen quite a lot of atrocious things. Crowley was fairly confident that the angel could keep his cool even in stressful situations – in fact, maybe better than Crowley himself could…but trying to heal random strangers during a fight was still something very different from seeing the one you loved injured and having to keep calm then. Grasshoppers and daisies were good for practising in general, but they weren’t in any way suitable for preparing anyone for that kind of emergency.

With another sigh, the demon began to talk again: “Well, yes, that’s one thing…to practise on…but that won’t teach you a few of the very important essentials, Angel…I know you love all of Creation, you being an angel and all that, but…I guess you’re probably not quite that attached to a random grasshopper…” It was only now that Aziraphale finally managed to make out what Crowley had summoned just a few moments before – he was holding a small knife in his hand. The angel’s eyes grew wide. “Crowley, no!”, he managed but it was too late – the demon had already dragged the blade across his left palm, hissing slightly as he did so.

Aziraphale stared, almost in shock, when the demon held out his hand. The was a trail of blood on his palm, slowly dripping down onto the grass, deep red on lush green. “It’s alright, Angel, calm down. Just concentrate and fix it.” With some effort, the angel managed to drag his gaze from Crowley’s hand to his face. The demon gave him an encouraging nod. “C’mon, you can do it. I have faith in you. Fix it, Aziraphale. ‘s just the corporation, no big deal.” “B-but…Crowley…you…you’re bleeding…” Crowley all but rolled his eyes. “Stop fussing, Aziraphale. You wanted to learn this. Concentrate. Fix it.”

The angel took a somewhat shaky breath, but then, he reached out and took Crowley’s hand in his own. Quite in reflex, he was about to simply perform a miracle to fix this as quickly as he could, but the demon shook his head. “No. Concentrate, Angel. Do it properly. Calm down, breathe, collect yourself, take your time and concentrate.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Aziraphale marvelled at how soothing and at the same time demanding Crowley sounded right now, but it worked. He took another deep breath, thought back to what they’d been talking about, reached out on that other level of perception, focused, summoned his energies – and the cut in Crowley’s palm disappeared. The angel sighed in relief and closed his eyes for a moment, sagging slightly.

Crowley watched him for a bit, cocking his head. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to react quite as strongly as this. With an almost careless gesture, he sent the knife back to where he’d summoned it from. “Hey, Angel…it’s fine. Well done, excellent work.” But Aziraphale softly shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done this. Crowley, I didn’t want you to hurt one of our ducks, but least of all, I want you to ever hurt yourself! Please don’t. I…You’ve upset me quite a bit just now…” The demon sighed. “Come here, Angel…”, he muttered and pulled the angel in for a hug. For a moment, Aziraphale just clung to him, while Crowley began to rub the angel’s back in slow, calming circles. Without really thinking about it, he materialised his wings and wrapped them around the two of them, cocooning the angel in a comforting layer of shimmering, black feathers.

“Hey, it’s alright, Angel, calm down. ’m sorry for startling you…Really, I am. But…ya know…that…that’s prob’ly the hardest thing of it all: Staying calm and working properly even under pressure and in distress. And that’s…something that’s damn hard to train. And I def’nitely don’t want ya to ever find yourself in such a situation, but…just in case, I’d rather have you not freeze in panic like the proverbial rabbit, but get out of that moment of shock and act. And act properly and quickly, at that, because should it ever come to a situation like this, ya prob’ly won’t be able to fix it by simply using a general miracle – you’ll need to know exactly what you’re doing, and you’ll need to be quick and precise. I’d have to rely on you then.” With that, he gently took the angel by his arms and moved so that he could look at him.

Aziraphale seemed to have calmed down a bit, but he still appeared to be somewhat upset. “How can I stay calm when you’re hurt and bleeding? I’ve had combat training, way back then, I’ve seen my share of…gruesome things…but seeing you hurt? I…How am I supposed to stay calm at that?”, he asked softly. Crowley sighed. “I know it’s not easy, believe me, I _know_. D’ya have any idea how I felt when I saw your broken wing that day? Still had to push past that in order to fix it. And…it was even worse because I knew I’d have to hurt you in order to heal it, and trust me, hurting you is the last thing I’d ever wanna do, Angel. Still, _had_ to do it, so I…had to push all that aside and ignore it for the moment. Compartmentalising, ya know? ‘s prob’ly the hardest thing about this, to stay calm in such situations – and trust me, I’m not the best at that, either. I just…wanted you to be aware, so in case we ever find ourselves in such a situation, you might not be completely unprepared.”

Aziraphale sighed. “You could have warned me, though…” This, however, caused a soft smirk to appear on the demon’s face. “Well, that would’ve kinda ruined the point, eh, Angel?” The angel in question sighed again. “I’ve seen you almost die once, Crowley, that was quite enough for my taste.” “Point taken…and I have no intentions to repeat that…but you had no chance to heal me then…You were quite panicky, though…Not that I hold that against, you – I guess I’d have been the same…At least.” The angel sighed again, somewhat mollified by this last confession. After a short consideration, he nodded. After all, Crowley was right: He’d have to manage to somehow stay calm in an emergency, just as he’d been trained to. With the only addition that he’d have to keep in mind how to heal someone and that he’d have to manage all that even and especially if it was Crowley who needed saving.

“You did really well, you know? In fact…it seems you’re quite talented…Makes sense, I guess, considering what ya told me about…God’s initial plans for you…Working for me…”, Crowley said after another moment of silence. This, finally, brought a soft smile back to the angel’s face. “Oh, you think? Well…as I said, it always interested me…I…I guess, knowing what you taught me today, I may just as well read that book again, front to back, and read whatever else I can find on healing in the other celestial books I have. Puts it all into a somewhat new perspective now…Some things I didn’t really understand make much more sense now…” Crowley just smiled back at him.

By now, the sun had begun to set, flooding everything in shades of red, orange and golden. Aziraphale looked at the demon sitting there on the grass in front of him, the one being in all of Creation that he loved the most. The light of the setting sun truly suited Crowley – his hair seemed to be aflame, his eyes like molten gold and almost glowing, his shimmering, black wings tinged in a reddish hue…wings he still had halfway wrapped around Aziraphale. And he was still smiling softly – a smile the angel couldn’t help but return. Crowley was pondering for a moment, only realising just now that he still had his wings out. “I do mean it, though, Angel. You really did very well…and I’m sorry for pushing you like that. However…if you’d like to try…You did fix my wings back then and I guess you remember what you did there and how. Well…with what you’ve learned now, I’m sure you could do that even better. Care to try? Not…on such a large scale, though, of course…”

Aziraphale stared for a moment. “Crowley. I do hope you’re not suggesting what I infer? You’re not going to pluck your own feathers out! Certainly not!” The demon made a noise somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “Just a tiny down feather, Aziraphale, I’ll hardly even feel that one. Would make it more difficult for you to fix that, too, because it wouldn’t actually be visible, so you’d really have to go and feel for it. Sense it, ya know? And you’d get more of a sense for…well…healing me, specifically…” The angel hesitated, not quite convinced yet. “Crowley, I said I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” “And I just told ya, just a teeny, tiny down feather – ‘s like pulling out a hair, Angel, you can hardly call that ‘hurting myself’.” The angel frowned. “Just a single down feather?” “Yup.” “A tiny one?” “Sure, Angel. So?” Aziraphale sighed, but then, he nodded: “Okay, fine.”

At that, Crowley nodded and turned to pick a small, soft down feather, and he plucked it out and showed it to the angel. Aziraphale took it almost reverently, before he settled down halfway behind Crowley and turned his attention to the demon’s wing, focusing on it while gently running his fingertips over the smooth, silky feathers. Crowley took a somewhat shuddering breath, but he kept still, so that Aziraphale could concentrate. It didn’t take too long and the angel sensed the tiny pinprick of a spot where the down feather was missing. He thought back to the instructions he’d read in that celestial book back then, and he thought about what he’d learned today – and it took him only a moment and hardly any energy at all to make a new soft down feather grow in the spot where Crowley had plucked the old one out just a moment ago. The demon smiled. “Well done, Angel”, he complimented the angel.

Aziraphale smiled, but his hand was still lingering on those soft, silky feathers. “Crowley…since you already have your wings out…I…I’d quite like to preen you a bit if you’d be amenable, my dear…” The demon half turned to face the angel sitting behind him, but he smiled. “Well…alright, ‘f ya like…On one condition, though…” Aziraphale, who’d already reached out for Crowley’s wing, froze. “What condition, dearest?” Crowley chuckled and turned around completely. “On the one condition that I get to preen you afterwards. I bet it’s far more necessary in your case anyway….” The angel blushed. “Well…probably, yes. I…Yours are always so impeccably well-groomed, I never even get mine to look like that. They’re…just so fluffy…Yours are so smooth, like…like silk…” The demon smirked. “I like fluffy…Fluffy wings, fluffy hair…fluffy angel”, he stated, before turning back around and stretching out his wings to give Aziraphale better access.

It didn’t take long for Crowley to close his eyes and bite back a moan of pleasure. It was amazing how good Aziraphale actually was at this, considering his rather negligent behaviour regarding his own wings. But to be fair, Crowley’s wings were already in perfect shape and Crowley was well aware of the fact that what the angel was doing right now was a caress rather than actual grooming. He couldn’t quite hold back a few sighs and whimpers, but by now they knew and trusted each other well enough for Crowley not to feel embarrassed about it. After a while, however, the demon pulled himself out of that almost trance-like state of sensual enjoyment and turned around. “Right. Enough. Your turn, Angel. Get your wings out and turn around.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he did as he was told. Crowley couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Of course, there were a few loose feathers, a few tangled ones, but at least, these days, there was no longer a layer of dust on the angel’s wings. Their pearly white seemed to shimmer almost pink in the red evening light, just like the fluffy curls on the angel’s head. It was truly a sight to behold, Crowley thought, before he began to gently run his fingers through the soft (and indeed rather fluffy), white feathers. Aziraphale sighed and Crowley felt the wing quiver slightly under his touch, before the angel stretched it out just a bit more. Crowley kept preening Aziraphale’s wings for quite some time, and apart from the angel’s soft moans and sighs, both of them remained silent. Time passed, the sun set and the crickets and grasshoppers had already begun their nightly concert.

The demon found, not for the first time, that the act of preening (no matter if he did his own wings or Aziraphale’s) put him into an almost meditative state. It was only when the angel finally turned around that he realised that it had already gone dark and that the stars were twinkling above them. Aziraphale smiled at him, warm and so full of love. “Thank you, my dearest”, the angel said. Crowley looked at him for a moment, but then, he leaned forward, reached out to cup the angel’s cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. Aziraphale reciprocated immediately, tilting his head a little and placing his own hand over Crowley’s wrist to keep the demon’s hand in place on his cheek. “My pleasure”, the demon finally muttered with a grin against the angel’s lips, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s.

“What a beautiful night”, the angel finally remarked after a while, “we could just stay out here all night, watch the stars…” Crowley quirked an eyebrow, his grin rather suggestive. “A lovely night indeed…We could certainly make each other see stars, Angel…while we stay out here all night…and then, we can watch the actual stars above afterwards, until they fade and the sun comes up…” Aziraphale was fairly certain that he was blushing, even though it remained unseen in the darkness of the night. But he smiled, blinked and cast the demon a decidedly seductive glance, before he pulled him in for another kiss and sank down backwards onto the soft grass, pulling Crowley down with him.

It was something new, making love under the stars in their own garden. They took their time – Crowley had suggested all night, after all, and if both their freshly preened and groomed wings got somewhat ruffled in the process, neither of them bothered. The fact that Aziraphale knew that Crowley had actually created some of the stars the angel could see in the dark indigo of the sky above him seemed to make it even better. The stars had wandered quite a bit across the night sky when they finally found themselves lying arm in arm, snuggled closely together, limbs tangled, hands softly caressing each other and carding through soft plumage and strands of hair, both of them covered in a blanket of black and white feathers, of wings gently brushing against each other. “They really are much brighter here than in London”, Aziraphale said quietly, looking up at the stars. Crowley beside him looked up at them as well, a soft smile on his face. “They are, yes…”, he agreed.

The angel cast him a short glance. “They are beautiful…Just like one of their creators…” Aziraphale couldn’t be quite sure about it in the darkness of the night, but he was fairly certain that Crowley was blushing. At any rate, the demon smiled and turned to look at him. “Hmm…you know what, Angel? You know I can no longer create any stars…or so I thought…Well…turns out, it seems there’s one star I can still make shine so very brightly…and he’s more beautiful than any of all the others up there that I’ve ever created…” Aziraphale stared at him for a moment and it was only now that he remembered and realised that he’d once again started to glow in the throes of passion earlier that night. “Oh, Crowley…”, he finally managed, his vision getting slightly blurry, “oh, my beautiful star-making serpent…Oh, how I love you…” Crowley smiled back at him. “Love you too, Angel…More than I could ever say…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this and the previous chapter kinda belong together, but I split them because it would have been too long otherwise...  
> No, Crowley, please don't hurt yourself...And yes, it seems he's not quite ready yet to show that certain part of himself to Aziraphale...But at least, they are on the same page now, open with each other and TALKING. And yes, Aziraphale might just be somewhat grateful for this lesson in a short while. Nothing too serious, though, they are going to be fine!  
> Aaaand strange as it feels, I've finished the very last chapter...There's just the ordinary editing left to do, but...it's all finished. So, I'll continue to upload twice a week and will eventually start writing down all the other ideas I still have - shorter fics and oneshots that can stand on their own, but will probably also fit in nicely with this story...


	41. No Angels in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Crowley gets a surprise visit from Beelzebub, he realises Aziraphale's and his mistake when they moved into their cottage - they forgot to put any wards up. And Beelzebub isn't the only uninvited guest appearing at the cottage. While the Prince of Hell has come for a "friendly chat" with Crowley, someone else clearly has a bone to pick with Aziraphale...

They had indeed gone to the beach the next day – and as expected, Crowley found Aziraphale’s ideas of what to wear for a dip in the waves simply hilarious. It had been a wonderful day, though, and of course, they’d got some ice cream along the way, too. The angel had actually managed to catch a few grasshoppers, as well – another thing that had greatly amused Crowley. Watching Aziraphale trying to catch them had him in a fit of laughter. But among the grasshoppers the angel had managed to catch, there had been one or two with a missing leg and Aziraphale had healed them successfully. He’d also found a starfish on the beach that he could heal and send back into the depths of the ocean. Quite a lot of the rest of the day, the angel had been reading, just as he’d announced.

The day after that was still bright, sunny and warm, so Aziraphale had suggested a picnic. He was already busy preparing a hamper full of little delicious treats, so Crowley had decided to go out into the garden and pick some strawberries and the like to complete whatever the angel chose to take along for food. Thus, the demon was currently in the garden behind the cottage, softly humming to himself and wondering if Aziraphale would remember to pack a bottle of wine as well. And where would they even go for their picnic? Crowley wasn’t sure and he realised that he didn’t really care too much, either – any place was perfect if the angel was there beside him. He chuckled and softly shook his head.

Of course, Crowley had done his best to terrorise the strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and all the other berries in their garden into nothing short of perfection when it came to appearance – and taste, especially. It had been difficult, considering how much Aziraphale was spoiling them with kindness, but right now, Crowley had to admit that they’d done amazingly well (which, of course, he wouldn’t tell them). Only the best for Aziraphale, after all – and, well, admittedly, Crowley wouldn’t mind eating some of them himself, too. _Still, watching the angel eating them is better_ , he thought, a smirk appearing on his face. He was quite absorbed in his own thoughts and in the task of picking berries – so absorbed, in fact, that it took him a moment to realise that something was…off.

Something was wrong. With his alarm bells going off, Crowley stood up, sniffing the air. Yes, the scent was unmistakeable. _Shit_. It was only now that Crowley realised the one thing they’d forgotten when they’d moved in here. The one fatal mistake. The bookshop as well as Crowley’s old flat in Mayfair had been protected – but out here, at their cottage, their shared _home_ , they hadn’t put any wards up. And it wasn’t even that they’d assumed that they’d be left alone for good now or that Heaven and Hell wouldn’t find them here. No. The truth was, they hadn’t even thought about it. At all. Crowley wanted to kick himself. Instead, he turned around with an icy smile.

“Lord Beelzebub.” Crowley bowed just in time for the last remnants of fresh earth to disappear around the feet of the Lord of the Flies and Prince of Hell. Beelzebub didn’t even bother to look at him and instead brushed some (probably entirely imaginary) dirt off their clothes. It was probably for the better, since not even Crowley himself was entirely sure if that bow of his had been in earnest or in mockery. Beelzebub sighed, appearing to be as annoyed and displeased as usual. “Crowley. The traitor. Long time, no zzee.”

Crowley didn’t even try to make his smile appear genuine – it was a grimace, at best. “Well, and I must say that I didn’t expect to see you again so _soon_. To what do I owe the displeasure? I don’t assume you’ve come for a house-warming party?” The Lord of the Flies stared at him for a moment, their cold, icy blue eyes unreadable. “Don’t be ridiculouzzz. Hell doezz not bring any houzze-warming giftzzzz.” “Thought as much”, Crowley muttered, “Pity, that. What do you want, then? ‘s not like we’ve invited you.” Beelzebub cocked their head. “I don’t need invitationzzz, Crowley. Hell never doezz. I thought you knew that by now. You’re a traitor, but you’re zztill a demon, after all.”

Crowley swallowed. That didn’t sound good. He still had no idea what to do – and technically, Beelzebub was still his superior. Technically. But then again… “Hang on. Yes, I’m still a demon, ‘m not arguing on that. But…you did send me on…a permanent sabbatical-thingy, kinda. Said yourself, ‘m no longer one of your lot, promised to leave me alone. Me and Aziraphale. I mean…yes, yes, I know, promises are made to be broken, ‘specially in Hell, but…I mean, really…d’ya really wanna mess with us? After…after everything that’s happened?”, he finished, sounding way more confident than he felt. But he figured that, when it came to Hell, the best way was to face them head-on and with as much boldness and bravado as he could muster. If there was one thing he’d learned in all those six thousand years, it was to never show weakness.

Beelzebub rolled their eyes in annoyance. “Well, it zeemzzz there’zzz no getting rid of you, zzo we’re prepared to accept your prezence here, az long az you don’t interfere with our planzzz. But in order for that to work, we have to eztablish zzome rulezz. That’z why I’m here. I have an order for you. It’zz called a ‘requezzt’, but you know it’zz an order. We demand, we do not azk for favourzzz.” Crowley frowned a little. This wasn’t quite what he’d expected. “Well…what’s that ‘request’, then? I’ve no intentions of…interfering with whatever Hell’s up to, as long as it’s not to restart Armageddon. Same goes for Aziraphale. Do whatever ya want, just leave us alone.”

The Prince of Hell gave him a slow blink that made them appear somewhat like an irritated cat. “Do not interfere with Hell’zz buzzzinezzz. Meaning, do not zzend any more angelzzz Downstairzzz. We will ungraciouzly overlook thiz one mizztep, but don’t. Do it. Again. Underzzztood?” Crowley frowned and shook his head. He tried to say something, but all he managed were a few incoherent consonants. He didn’t understand at all. Beelzebub rolled their eyes again. “Ligur? I believe he claimed that it wazz _you_ who told him to come down to Hell.” It was only now that realisation hit Crowley. He opened his mouth, eyes going wide, but it took him another moment to actually find any words. “Oh…sso…he made it?”

Beelzebub nodded. “Indeed. The…angel formerly known az Ligur arrived in Hell to zee Hazztur, Duke of Hell, currently demoted and under obzzervation. Not that that izz of any concern to you…Cauzzzed quite a commotion, though. We can’t have that.” Crowley nodded slowly. “Look…I…I’ve no intentions of sending anyone Downstairs, I just…merely suggested it to…Ligur, whatever he’s called now, because of Hastur. I was rather surprised myself to see Ligur alive and kicking and I figured, Hastur might not know…and that he prob’ly _should_ know. Ya know…with him being out for revenge – for Ligur – well, it was somewhat annoying, having a…constant target on our backs. You may not have heard about it, but Hastur tried to kill Aziraphale and shot me in the process. Didn’t appreciate that. So…since, as it seemed to me, Hell didn’t really seem to bother to keep your vengeful Duke in check, I…tried to solve the problem in a different way. Seems to me, we have a simple solution here: You don’t come after us and make sure no demons do so without Hell’s permission, either, and we won’t send any more angels down to Hell, how’s that?”

The Prince of Hell seemed unperturbed, but Crowley knew them well enough to notice the short flash of anger in their eyes when he suggested that Hell had some disciplinary problems. “You’re zzzpeaking out of line and I should punish you for that, normally. But zince Hazzztur did indeed overztep and ignored zzzpecific orderzz, I’m willing to let thiz rezzzt. For now. Do we have an agreement, Crowley? No more angelzzz Downstairzzz and Hell will leave you alone. Both of you. Azz long azz you don’t zztand in our way.” Crowley nodded. A truce? This was a deal he’d gladly agree to, sooner rather than later. Having Beelzebub’s word that Hell would leave them alone, well, the only way this could ever be topped was by Satan himself giving his word. And that would never happen, so this seemed almost too good to be true. It seemed that Ligur’s appearance must have caused rather more than just a little commotion Downstairs. So, still nodding, Crowley held out his hand. “Deal.” The Lord of the Flies eyed his hand for a moment, but then, they reached out and shook it.

“So, how’s Hastur, then? I take it, he got what he deserved for acting against orders, if I heard you correctly? Did he and Ligur…talk? Is he still out for revenge?”, Crowley couldn’t stop himself from asking. “None of your buzzzinezzz, Zzzerpent.” “Oh, come now. He threatened our lives. Don’t you think I deserve to know?” “You don’t want to know what I think you dezzzerve, Crowley. But fine. Yezzz, they talked. Thingzzz are…complicated, of courzzze. The angel formerly known azz Ligur izz part of the oppozzition now, after all. But Hazztur will not come after you again. Let that be enough.” Crowley could easily hear the hidden threat in Beelzebub’s final sentence. After a short contemplation, the Lord of the Flies added: “I’m zurprizzzed, by the way, that you two didn’t put any wardzzz up to keep anyone out…”

Crowley frowned and hoped that he wasn’t blushing. If Beelzebub realised this and remarked on it, their careless neglect would be painfully obvious to others, too. “Well…we didn’t really expect anyone from Hell or Heaven to come over for tea, you see…But since you’re the only one who has actually bothered to…” He stopped short, sniffing the air again, and froze. Beelzebub, too, seemed to sense something. There was a strong angelic presence around – and it had been there for quite a bit, as Crowley began to realise. He’d just been too busy dealing with the Prince of Hell to pay enough attention to that. But it was there, unmistakably. An angelic presence…no…two. Two angelic presences, and neither of them were the familiar, ever-present one of Aziraphale. In fact, Aziraphale’s presence was there, as well. That was the one thing Crowley was certain of: That he’d have noticed immediately if Aziraphale’s presence had disappeared. No, the angel was definitely still here – but there were two other angels here as well. And they were most definitely _not_ supposed to be here.

“Angelzzz…”, Beelzebub confirmed what Crowley had already sensed. He was fairly certain that all the colour had drained from his face, but he didn’t care. Had Beelzebub known? Had Heaven and Hell cooperated to come after them simultaneously, Hell dealing with him while Heaven came after Aziraphale? Or…was it a mere coincidence? He didn’t even know if he was scared or angry. “Shit! Did you know about thiss? Did ya plan thisss?”, Crowley hissed, but Beelzebub just shook their head. Crowley wasn’t quite sure if he believed them, but they seemed just as surprised as he felt himself. And while the Lord of the Flies definitely was tremendously good at hiding their emotions (if they had any), their surprise at sensing angels here seemed genuine. A coincidence, then. But that didn’t really make it any better. If there was one thing Crowley knew, it was that he’d never forgive himself if anything was to happen to Aziraphale because of his own inattentiveness. “Shit!”, he repeated again, before he turned on his heels and ran towards the front of the cottage, the Prince of Hell trailing behind him.

* * *

A few minutes earlier…

Aziraphale had suggested a picnic and was delighted that Crowley had immediately agreed to it. So, the angel found himself bustling around and packing whatever he could think of: Sandwiches, biscuits, cheese, grapes, cake, a bottle of wine…He was humming to himself happily. Crowley had left a short while ago, “to get some additional stuff for the picnic”, as he’d said. Since he’d disappeared into the garden behind the cottage, Aziraphale was fairly certain what that additional stuff would be. He looked at the picnic hamper in front of him, almost full by now, and he cocked his head, thinking. There was something still missing, he thought. Some apples, perhaps. The angel knew that Crowley was somewhat fond of them and that the tree in front of their cottage currently carried an abundance of crisp, juicy apples. _Well, perfect, that’s just the idea_ , Aziraphale thought and turned to open the front door. He went straight towards the tree, already contemplating which and how many apples he should pick, when suddenly, apples became the least important thing on his mind.

He sensed it, sensed _them_ before it even happened. Two bolts of lightning hit the ground between him and the apple tree, and Aziraphale automatically took a step backwards. _We haven’t put any wards up_ , he realised. How foolish they’d been! How reckless! Of course they wouldn’t be left alone – what had they been thinking? _Well, we haven’t been thinking. We’ve been too blissfully happy here…with each other, our home, our love…We should have known it couldn’t last, we should have prepared_ , the nagging voice in the back of his mind admonished him. As if it just couldn’t get any worse, the two angels materialising from the lightning bolts turned out to be Gabriel and Sandalphon. _Oh, brilliant_ , Aziraphale groaned internally.

Sandalphon grinned his trademark gold-tooth grin as soon as he set eyes on him, but when Aziraphale looked over at Gabriel, he realised that, contrary to most previous encounters, the archangel wasn’t smiling at all. Aziraphale was well aware that Gabriel’s smiles had usually felt…wrong, but the grim expression the archangel was wearing now seemed even more unsettling. Apart from this, Gabriel also seemed…a bit worse for wear. It wasn’t very obvious, it was…just a few little things. A little less care in his clothes here, hair a little less well-styled there, a bit of a stubble on his chin…very subtle, but Aziraphale noticed it nonetheless.

“Ah, Aziraphale. Our little renegade angel. Not only fraternising with the enemy, but now you’re even openly living together, I see”, Gabriel remarked. “Have you no shame?”, Sandalphon chimed in. Aziraphale swallowed. _Come on, buck up! He’s no longer your boss_ , he told himself. Still, old habits die hard. Aziraphale found himself putting on a fake smile. “Gabriel. Sandalphon. What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here. Could’ve prepared some tea, had I known…But then…you don’t drink tea, anyway, so…” “Something smells awfully evil here”, Sandalphon interrupted him, scrunching his nose in disgust. Gabriel almost rolled his eyes. “Well, what did you expect? There’s a demon living here after all. Really, Aziraphale…”, he tutted and shook his head, “I’d have expected you to have at least some semblance of self-respect. But it seems that demon of yours has finally succeeded in his vile schemes…”

This, however, was enough for Aziraphale. It was bad enough if Gabriel chose to belittle him, but to talk like that about Crowley, that was definitely too much. The angel squared his shoulders. “Well, pardon me, but I don’t think that this is of any concern to you. I do not work for you any longer and my private life is most certainly my own business. And the same goes for Crowley. I have not invited either of you to come here, so please pardon my astonishment – your sudden and unexpected appearance has caught me rather by surprise. But be that as it may, you have no right to insult me or Crowley. I’d really like to know now what it is that you want. Why are you here?”

A smile appeared on Gabriel’s face, and he didn’t even try to make it look friendly or genuine. It rather looked like the cold grin of a predator. “Funny you should ask, sunshine. I thought you’d know.” With that, Gabriel took a step forward, and despite his best efforts, Aziraphale took one backwards. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. I have no idea why you’re here.” The fake smile disappeared from Gabriel’s face. “Don’t you now? Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through? You with your pathetic little complaints to the Metatron. How dare you? They reprimanded and demoted me, did you know that? Me! I was humiliated! I’ve only recently been allowed to do any of my old work again at all! Do you know what that’s like? To lose face like that? And you dare to claim that you don’t even know about this?! I’m not the bad guy in this whole charade! I’ve always worked for the Lord, for the greater good, for the Great Plan, and now they are pointing their fingers at me!”

Gabriel had come closer and closer, but Aziraphale had finally managed to hold his ground. The result, however, was that the archangel was now standing directly in front of him – definitely way too close for his liking – and Sandalphon was looming behind Gabriel like a shadow. _He’s already been reprimanded, he’s furious, but he can’t really seriously hurt you_ , Aziraphale told himself. Still, he also knew that, while, if push came to shove, he’d definitely know how to defend himself, he still didn’t stand much of a chance against an archangel, let alone an archangel and…another angel of somewhat dubious rank.

“I do believe it’d be best if you leave now”, Aziraphale finally managed, quietly but firmly, “I did not invite you here and if you’ve only come here to threaten me, then you should really just –” “Leave? Are you serious, sunshine? I haven’t even started yet!”, Gabriel thundered. Aziraphale blinked a few times and his gaze wandered to Sandalphon’s fake grin and then back to Gabriel, whose violet eyes were blazing with fury. He took another deep breath, one part of him relieved that Crowley hadn’t come to his aid yet, another part hoping for the demon to appear and save him. “All due respect, Gabriel, but…it wasn’t _my_ idea to arrest Crowley and me and to lock us up in Heaven. That was _your_ doing and if you got reprimanded for that, well, that’s your own fault. You clearly abused your –”

“Abused? I didn’t abuse anything!”, Gabriel interrupted him once again, grabbing him by his jacket with one hand in his rage, his other hand clenched in a fist at his side, “You deserved it! Both of you – you and your…demon-scum. I know that there was something rotten going on at your trials and I was about to find out! I was about to get to the bottom of that. Whatever you two scoundrels did, there’s something fishy there! So I caught the both of you together, to get it out of you. And I _would_ have, had you two not manhandled my poor guard and escaped. And filed a complaint on top of that, how dare you!” “Yes, how dare you”, Sandalphon echoed. Aziraphale hoped that neither of them noticed how badly he was shaking, but his voice remained amazingly firm. “I suggest you let go of me now. If you don’t mind. You’re rather rumpling my clothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grasshoppers do indeed often have missing legs (I know, I've caught like...hundreds of them as a kid).   
> Well, now the proverbial s*** is about to hit the fan. Yes, they've been somewhat negligent when it comes to security. Slight cliffhanger here, but we already know that Crowley is on his way. Aziraphale is amazingly brave here, I think, doing his best to face down Gabriel and Sandalphon despite being afraid and despite of what Gabriel has put him through...
> 
> I split the epilogue into a final chapter and a short epilogue, so we're at 46 chapters (epilogue included) altogether. Means five to go after this one...What a strange feeling...Hope you enjoy reading! Stay safe, everyone!


	42. Not Exactly Heaven-Sent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gabriel and Sandalphon appear at the cottage and threaten Aziraphale, things escalate rather quickly. After all, Crowley has a few bones to pick with the archangel anyway...

“I suggest you let go of me now. If you don’t mind. You’re rather rumpling my clothing”, Aziraphale managed with as much dignity as he could muster. Gabriel had grabbed him by his jacket with one hand, slowly raising his other hand clenched in a fist in a rather threatening manner, clearly seething with rage. It didn’t seem likely that the archangel would let him go. On the contrary, Aziraphale realised that the possibility of Gabriel exploding and seriously harming him was a very likely one. _This is the real reason why he’s brought Sandalphon along_ , he realised. _Should anything happen, it will be both their word against mine. If I’d be in any condition to still speak at all, that is. And Gabriel’s an archangel and Sandalphon is officially counted among them. They’d never believe_ me _, a principality, against the word of these two_.

It was in that very moment that Crowley came around the corner from the garden behind the cottage. Sandalphon saw him first, but Gabriel’s attention was still on Aziraphale. “Well, _I_ suggest –”, the archangel started replying to Aziraphale, but he was interrupted by the demon. “I sssuggessst you do ass he sssaysss. Now!” Gabriel looked up, noticing Crowley…and Beelzebub trailing behind him. “Speak of the Devil…”, Sandalphon muttered, “no wonder the stink of evil permeates everything here. I do wonder, Aziraphale, how you can even stand this…” Gabriel looked up briefly, took in Crowley and Beelzebub and turned his attention back to Aziraphale. “So? Hell’s been invited for a little get-together, but Heaven isn’t?”, he asked.

Sandalphon was still watching the two demons, his face twisted in disgust. “It rather seems to me, Gabriel, that your suspicions are confirmed. Clearly collaborating with the enemy, after all.” Crowley was about to open his mouth, but he felt somewhat torn between the urge to reply to Sandalphon’s ridiculous accusations and to the fact that Gabriel _still_ had his hands on Aziraphale and was threatening him. Instead, it was Beelzebub who answered Sandalphon, their tone a peculiar mixture of annoyed and bored: “You’re being ridiculouzzz, you white-winged, shit-feathered twat. Hell doezn’t need to collaborate with thezze two, they are traitorzzz to uzz juzt the zzame. I juzzt had to zettle zzomething here. None of your buzzzinezzz.” Sandalphon seemed too stunned or too offended to reply to that, but since the Prince of Hell had taken care of that, Crowley could shift his full focus back to Gabriel.

“Right, none of your business. And I really don’t like to repeat myself: Let go of Aziraphale. Right now. We haven’t invited you here, you’re not welcome. Sso I sssuggessst you leave.” Gabriel did indeed let go of Aziraphale then, pushing him backwards and sending him stumbling as he did so. The angel caught himself and smoothed his rumpled jacket. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”, he muttered, his gaze flickering between Sandalphon and Gabriel – and Beelzebub. He’d had no idea, after all, that the Lord of the Flies was here at all. And he wasn’t sure that he liked it. Still, they’d followed Crowley and they had obviously not harmed him, so maybe it was alright. The two angels, however…well, this was most definitely not alright.

Gabriel looked Crowley up and down with obvious disdain. “So you think you can boss me around here, demon?” Crowley returned his gaze, eyes blazing with all the anger about Gabriel he’d bottled up over the centuries. “You’re not welcome here. Thiss iss _our_ place. And we will have no remorsse whatssoever to fight you if ya don’t leave.” Gabriel cocked his head. “You’d really fight us? In front of your boss? Go ahead then, demon. Go and attack an angel of the Lord. Start the War you fought so hard to stop from happening.” Crowley shook his head, but it was Aziraphale who jumped in to explain. “Oh no, I’m afraid you’re very much mistaken on this. You see, as Crowley said, this is our place and you’ve come uninvited and with threats and insults, so…” “You’re tresssspasssing”, Crowley hissed, standing motionless, a snake ready to attack, “How dare you come here and threaten Aziraphale anyway? How dare you even _look_ at him? You couldn’t hold a candle to him if you tried! And two againssst one? Are you really sssuch a coward? Heaven really musst’ve gone down a long way.”

This, however, enraged Gabriel even further. His violet eyes flashed with anger and as he spoke, he manifested his wings, feathers bristling. “How dare you, demon! Who do you think you are? Have you forgotten who I am? I’m the –” “Oh, I know exactly who you are, Archangel fucking Gabriel”, Crowley retorted, clearly fuming and manifesting his own wings, while he gestured for Aziraphale to move to the side. Somewhat numb, the angel obeyed the gesture and found himself standing a few paces to the side, closer to Beelzebub and Sandalphon. All three of them could only stand and stare, almost frozen in shocked surprise. “It rather sseemss to me, _you_ have forgotten who _I_ am”, Crowley continued, taking another couple of steps forward, black wings unfurled, until he and Gabriel were actually facing each other, with just a few paces left between them. Gabriel’s eyes grew wide – he stared at Crowley for a moment, then his gaze drifted over to Beelzebub, then back to Crowley. “Oh, yeah, surprise, we do actually remember”, the Serpent of Eden explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Gabriel once more looked at Beelzebub, so the Prince of Hell rolled their eyes and confirmed: “That’zzz actually true, you moron…”

For a blink of an eye, Gabriel kept staring, but then, a flashy, confident smile appeared on his face. Aziraphale felt the very air starting to sizzle and spark with energy, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was Gabriel’s doing or Crowley’s. Both of them were clearly furious, that much was obvious. And both seemed to summon energy. It felt…intense, if Aziraphale was to put it mildly. “Well, you’ve never been much of a fighter”, Gabriel snarled condescendingly, and with that, he hurled a ball of raw energy at Crowley, who managed only just in time to duck out of the way. The next ball the demon was able to deflect, but the third didn’t miss, not completely, at any rate: It grazed his wing and he hissed, while Aziraphale inhaled sharply and clasped his hand over his mouth. Gabriel sent another ball, but that one Crowley managed to deflect back at him, forcing the archangel to dodge his own missile.

This one short moment of reprieve proved to be all that Crowley needed. The sizzling in the air only seemed to increase and Aziraphale was fairly certain that he could see sparks fly. The very air itself seemed to be static and the smell of ozone as well as sulphur was getting heavier and heavier. Crowley had formed a ball of fire and hurled it at Gabriel before the archangel had even fully found his footing again. And he didn’t miss. “No, I haven’t”, he replied to Gabriel’s initial statement, “but I wass created a healer. Which meanss I know where it _hurtsss!_ ” With that, he sent another fireball at Gabriel, who screamed, because it hit his wing with full force, scorching it and setting quite a few of his feathers ablaze. It didn’t incapacitate the archangel for very long, though – he was soon back to attacking, with Crowley counter-attacking with fire and spitting venom at him. It didn’t take long for them to make use of their wings, too, and take their fight up into the electrified air as well as the ground below.

Aziraphale was still staring wide-eyed, knowing full well that there was no chance for him to intervene here. This was…beyond his own powers. Stepping in between that would probably be rather suicidal, if anything. He'd just risk getting caught in the crossfire, without any means to actually help his friend against Gabriel. But then, he noticed something moving beside him. It wasn’t Beelzebub. It was Sandalphon – and he was clearly preparing to…smite. No! _This_ was something Aziraphale _could_ and absolutely _had to_ stop from happening. He didn’t even have to think about it – even without any weapon, his combat training from so long ago simply kicked in. “Oh no, you won’t!”, he growled and jumped the other angel, unfurling his own wings and beating them furiously. Sandalphon got slapped in the face, but he reacted quickly, materialised his wings in turn and didn’t hesitate to attack Aziraphale now. He managed to push the furious principality off of himself and then tried to smite Aziraphale instead of his initial demonic target.

The wave of energy threw Aziraphale backwards, hitting him head-on. It hurt…but that was about it. Aziraphale was back up on his feet a moment later, narrowing his eyes at Sandalphon in anger. He didn’t often lose his temper, but right now, Aziraphale’s last bit of patience simply evaporated. “Did you just try to smite me? Seriously?!” Sandalphon seemed a bit out of his depths. “I thought it might work. You being…no longer a proper angel and all that. Pity it didn’t.” “No longer a proper angel? I’ll show you ‘proper angel’! I’m the Principality Aziraphale, I’m the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden and I will not be trodden under foot by the likes of you any longer. Nor will I allow you to hurt the demon I love. Yes, love. Not that I expect you to even understand what that means. And I will not have you or anyone, Heaven or Hell, come and threaten us or try and destroy Earth!”

With that, Aziraphale attacked. Sandalphon fought back, but even though the struggle was vicious, it was short. Aziraphale landed a punch that made the other angel double over and gasp. “That’s for trying to smite Crowley, you coward. And I’m not even getting started on what you did to me”, the principality growled, pinning the struggling and writhing Sandalphon to the ground. “Excuzzzze me…Principality…”, he suddenly heard Beelzebub’s soft buzz from behind his shoulder, “It zeemzzz to me that you have thingzzz handled here…I’d rather not ztick around and watch thizzz…fighting any longer. Otherwizzze, zomeone might zay, Hell had a hand in thizzz and they’ll try to blame it on uzz…I’ll be off if you don’t mind…Let me know which of the other two zurvivezzz…If it turnzzz out to be Crowley, good for you, I zzzuppozzze…and put wardzzz up, I zuggezzzt…”

Aziraphale cast them a short glance and simply nodded briefly. Their last few sentences did little to encourage him and it didn’t exactly sound as if Beelzebub was genuinely wishing them well. He realised that he was running out of time – he had to find a way to make sure that Gabriel wouldn’t end up seriously harming Crowley…or worse. _No, I can’t even think about that_ , he admonished himself. He felt the aura of the Prince of Hell disappear and turned his attention back to Sandalphon. “Now. Listen here, and listen closely. You’ll do exactly as I say. Think about where your allegiance lies: With Heaven or with Gabriel. Choose wisely. I do suggest the former, for your sake. Now be a good angel and run back Upstairs. Right now. And I want you to find the Metatron. Or if you cannot get a hold of them, find Michael. I hear she’s taken over at least part of Gabriel’s old job, temporarily? I’m sure she’ll be very interested to hear about this. Go and get someone from Upstairs down here this instant, before something happens that we’ll all regret.”

Sandalphon stared back at him, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn’t used to being bossed around or tackled to the ground. He was used to being the one who bossed others around, despite the fact that he was counted among the archangels only by title, not by actual power. But…hardly anyone knew that these days, so he was used to being respected. Feared even, at least since his actions during the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. But now, with the furious and very resolute principality pinning him down like this, he found that he could only nod with a shaky, insecure smile. Aziraphale held him down for a moment longer, before he let go of him and waited for him to get up. “Now, off you go. And be quick. Pip-pip! For Gabriel’s sake, if for nothing else. Scurry off and mind how you go!” Sandalphon just nodded and disappeared in a lightning strike a moment later, pale-faced and wide-eyed.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and looked around. Their front garden looked like a battlefield. Crowley and Gabriel were still fighting half in the air, half on the ground, desperate, relentless and enraged, but by now, both seemed to have grown somewhat tired. Aziraphale was worried – this was when even experienced fighters made mistakes. Crowley wasn’t an experienced fighter. And mistakes could easily be fatal. Both demon and archangel looked rather worse for wear, too. But Aziraphale still sensed the level of energy with which the very air was charged and sated, and it had hardly lessened at all. Gabriel had apparently also done his own attempts of smiting as well, but these Crowley had seen coming and had thus been able to avoid – contrary to that sneak-attack Sandalphon had intended to perform from the side line.

It was in that very moment that, up in the air, Gabriel apparently landed a hit which resulted in Crowley being thrown backwards to the ground. He skidded quite a bit across what was left of their lawn, but was back on his feet just in time to avoid being hit again. Instead, he hissed defensively and turned to attack Gabriel once again. The archangel had just landed beside the apple tree and was himself preparing for another attack. Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to do – he couldn’t call out to Crowley, that would just distract the demon. And that was something they really couldn’t afford now. But he also couldn’t intervene, not at such a level. The best he could do was hope that Sandalphon would do as he was told and that Heaven would react…and react quickly.

It didn’t take long, and yet, it felt like one of the longest waits the angel had ever endured. He was already contemplating what else he could do – to distract Gabriel somehow, perhaps, when, suddenly, there was another bolt of lightning. It came down rather close to Gabriel, distracting him for the blink of an eye. Crowley seized the opportunity and managed to slam the archangel against the apple tree with a push of energy. Gabriel grunted, but he was slightly dazed and couldn’t get back up immediately. When he fully came back to his senses, Michael had materialised between them.

“What in the Lord’s name is going on here?”, she demanded to know. Crowley was breathing hard and was apparently in no shape to reply, and neither was Gabriel, who groaned and scrambled back to his feet, so Aziraphale opted to answer: “Michael. Oh, thank God! Well…Gabriel and Sandalphon came here to threaten us and…things escalated a bit. I…believe the Archangel Gabriel feels…somewhat upset that he’s been…well, reprimanded for arresting us…” Gabriel shot him a withering glance at that, but said nothing. Michael, too, remained silent for a moment. Then, she turned around to face Gabriel. “I do believe you are not supposed to be down here. You know why you’ve been demoted. Are you doubting Heaven’s rightful judgement? You’d only just been reinstated and quite frankly, I was relieved to be able to return to my own duties full-time.”

Gabriel looked rather considerably battered and bruised, his right wing badly scorched. He just huffed: “You’re one to talk, Michael…” Michael raised an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean? Gabriel, I do believe we should return Upstairs immediately. And you should let one of the healers look at you, by the way. You look appalling.” With that, she turned to Aziraphale and Crowley. “My apologies. And Heaven’s. This was not supposed to happen. I do hope you won’t take the foolish actions of one angel”, she cast a pointed glance at Gabriel, “against Heaven and won’t cause any further trouble.”

Aziraphale found himself, maybe for the first time in his life, scowling slightly. Why was it that even an apology from Heaven sounded so much like a patronising, hidden threat? “Well, as long as nobody comes after us or tries to destroy the Earth…We’d be very happy indeed to simply be left alone...as you’ve already been told once before…by Crowley, during his trial, I believe”, he replied. Michael inclined her head, looking as frosty as usual. “Well, my best wishes to you, then. Maybe you should put some wards up. Better be safe than sorry – after all, Hell probably has some bones to pick with you two as well…” With that, the two archangels disappeared, Gabriel leaning on Michael for support.

As soon as they were gone, Crowley swayed and would have fallen, had Aziraphale not caught him. “Crowley! Are you alright?”, the angel asked, looking him over with worry. The demon was shaking rather a lot and he looked quite pale, but he nodded. “Jusssst exhausssted…”, he muttered. Aziraphale didn’t look very convinced. “Dear, you’re shaking”, he remarked. Crowley took a few deep breaths and after a couple of moments, he seemed to be more stable on his feet again at least, even though he seemed to slightly favour one leg. But he was standing. Still, Aziraphale didn’t leave his side and gently held him by the elbow. “Come, let’s get you inside, hm? And…then I guess, I should probably look you over for injuries…and…maybe get some tea? And maybe a glass of Scotch?”, the angel suggested and began to softly steer the stumbling and slightly limping demon towards the cottage. Crowley nodded. “Sssoundss good…Sssorry for the messs, by the way…Lookss rather dreadful…‘m glad the apple tree’ss sstill sstanding, at leasst…”

Aziraphale smiled softly and shook his head. “It’s alright, dear…You’re more important…We’ll deal with the front garden later…” “’kay…”, Crowley replied with a nod. The angel thought for a moment, but then, he finally said what kept going through his mind: “I…I haven’t seen an archangel go full archangel mode since…since the War…and…never up close…” Crowley shrugged. “Took quite a lot of effort to accessss and ssummon that level of power…Wassn’t quite sure if I could sstill do it at all…”, the demon commented quietly. “Well, as it seems, you clearly can, even as a demon”, the angel replied. “Rather impressive…By the way…Sandalphon tried to smite you…Couldn’t let him do that, of course”, he quickly added when he noticed Crowley’s startled expression. “Oh…thankss, Angel…”, he muttered with a tired smile, “Well…at leasst, I sent that tosser Gabriel home with his tail between his legs…” Crowley’s soft chuckle was quickly joined by Aziraphale’s, as the angel steered him through the front door and shut it behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand the s*** has hit the fan. No, Crowley isn't much of a fighter, but both he and Aziraphale stood their ground. And they are protective of each other. At least, now they'll probably really be left alone, finally...I believe it's probably not that easy to access such levels of power, especially if you no longer ARE an archangel. Who'd have thought that Michael, somewhat unwittingly, would save the day...  
> Hope you have a good read! Stay safe :)


End file.
